Tribulation Within
by killah-sama
Summary: [SatoshiDaisuke] A new play debuts, a steamy kiss ensues, love is snubbed, feelings are uncovered, Satoshi avoids confrontation, and Daisuke just can't wait to confess his love. Thus, the drama unfolds – all of it on stage, but not in the script.
1. What Really Sucked to Happen

**Title: **Tribulations Within**  
Pairing: **Satoshi/Daisuke

**Summary: **(SatoshiDaisuke) (2shot) Daisuke forgets his lines on the night of the new play he's performing in. When forced to make up a passionate profession of love to confess to Satoshi, the private investigator, he realizes he doesn't have to make one up at all: he just has to speak his heart.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own DNAngel. …Or do I? O.o

**Japanese Vocabulary**  
Senpai: upperclassman  
Kaitou: phantom thief  
Dorobou: thief  
Tantei: detective

------

Soon after Daisuke's class production of _Ice and Snow_, the performance had caught the attention of the Drama Club. However, like in all high schools, the Drama Club only spelled out one word: trouble. Trouble meant a preppy director whose only reason to live was to direct the perfect play. Trouble meant control freaks who wouldn't let you touch any of the props or costumes unless their hands were cut off and twitching on the floor. Trouble meant sour upperclassmen who glared at you for taking the so-called "role of their life."

Trouble, no matter how serious or stupid, always seemed to follow Niwa Daisuke around. Whether it was a cursed piece of artwork sucking him into its depths, or said obsessed director ordering said control freaks to stick him in three-inch heels, trouble was on the flippin' prowl.

Yes, you read right. Heels. Apparently, the director had enjoyed the casting of _Ice and Snow_. And if the casting was enjoyable to the director, the casting would be the same. Poor Daisuke was doomed to play the role of a female…again.

So that was where Daisuke found himself – in the middle of the gymnasium, surrounded by his senpais and a few of his fellow ninth-grade classmates. By some divine force of nature, he was fortunately still in his boy clothes, and about to recite his lines when a loud crack filled the air. The sound of ropes cutting soon followed it, and a scream was heard.

"Aiiieeeee! No! The backdrop! Someone grab it before it crushes the rest of the set! Everyone else- off the stage!"

"Hiwatari-kun!" Daisuke grabbed the stationary blunette's hand and tugged him down the steps of the stage. Once safely on level ground, the redhead glared up at the other. "What were you doing, just standing there? The tree almost came down on your head."

"Almost, being the key word," Satoshi replied stoically. He looked down, and his eyes flashed slightly. "Niwa-kun."

Daisuke sighed to himself, wondering why he bothered to worry about the blue-eyed boy when he was obviously set on taking care of himself.

Hiwatari Satoshi was unexpectedly persuaded into joining the club's performance. How and why, Daisuke would never know, but he was glad Satoshi was there- even if he was intent on holding up the cold façade he had made for himself.

"…"

"Niwa-kun."

There was a slight movement at the base of his arm, and when he turned his direction to the source of it, Daisuke discovered that his fingers were still tightly intertwined with Satoshi's. He blushed shyly and blinked down at their connected hands.

"…Niwa-kun." Satoshi pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "You can let go of my hand now." **- 1 -**

"Ah! Yes, yes! I'm sorry, Hiwatari-kun!" Daisuke hurriedly whipped his hand from Satoshi's, his already flushed face growing more color and his usually messy spikes even more flustered. He bowed in embarrassment, still squeaking a mantra of apologies.

"Stop that," Satoshi ordered. He tugged lightly on one of the ruby spikes. "It makes you look pathetic."

"I guess you might be right." Daisuke straightened himself out and smiled at the taller boy cheerfully. "Thanks."

"Niwa! Can you help me here for a sec please?"

Daisuke's head turned and he nodded. "Yeah, sure! Ja, Hiwatari-kun!" The little thief turned heel and ran off to air his caller.

Satoshi stared at Daisuke's retreating back, his icy eyes following his every step. The young commander pulled his hand up to eye level and studied it meticulously. What was this…feeling he was experiencing?

Scowling at the thought he could not comprehend, Satoshi brushed it off as a spasm caused by his bloodlusting other half.

The stoic teen ignored the faint, enthusiastic tingling that tickled his fingers and palm. He also ignored the fact that said tingling hand was the hand a certain bubbly redhead had earlier had in his grasp.

_Satoshi-sama… _Like liquid silk, the demonic angel's voice drifted through Satoshi's head. _Look what he has made you._

_He hasn't made me anything. It's just that – not for the first time – sharing my body with a sadistic killing machine had taken its toll. Satoshi felt a smile of deadly grace fix itself upon Krad's figmented face._

_Dear Satoshi-sama…so naïve. The smile grew. But remember your initial goal: to capture Dark Mousy and **kill** him. The boy is but a pawn in our game. We shall eliminate him._

_We shall do no such thing to Niwa-kun, _Satoshi snapped harshly.

_And why not?_ The tainted angel's face adopted an innocent, inquiring manner- one that did not fool Satoshi. _The Niwa boy is connected to Dark- therefore an enemy._

_Like myself, Niwa-kun wants to be normal. It's not his choice, nor is it mine, to be stuck with a potential danger magnet in his head._

_Heh heh…_ Krad closed his eyes blissfully as he voiced his amusement. _And like yourself, the little brat can't admit his feelings._

Satoshi blinked, his head cocked inquiringly. _What are you talking about, Krad?_ he demanded.

_But then again…_ The blonde began to talk quietly, as if forgetting- or maybe ignoring- the fact that Satoshi was still there. _It's better for me that he can't._

_Krad, tell me what you're talking about,_ Satoshi ordered, his curiosity surfacing. _Niwa-kun doesn't have any feelings he wants to admit to me. And neither do I._ '…At least none that you need to know of.' Satoshi thought the last part to himself.

Krad arched an eyebrow. _No feelings, eh?_

_No feelings._ Satoshi flushed slightly, hiding this from his other's knowledge. The flush wasn't the only thing he was hiding, apparently.

Whether Krad knew this or not, Satoshi had no clue. The sadist talked on as if he didn't, anyway. _That's splendid, Satoshi-sama. Now I may destroy him._

_We've been through this, Krad. You can't hurt Niwa-kun._

_And why can't I hurt a person you have no feelings for?_

Satoshi's heart skipped a beat. _Niwa-kun is my friend._

_But you don't like him around you._

_When have I ever said that?_

_You've said it many times to Niwa's face,_ Krad pointed out.

_That's only because if he's around me, you'll pop out and try to kill him!_

_Because I know you want him dead,_ Krad countered.

_I do not **want** Niwa-kun dead! I **like** Niwa-kun!_ Satoshi snapped.

_Excuse me?_ Krad questioned delicately. _Care to repeat that again?_

Satoshi immediately caught the way Krad interpreted his slip up and wanted to kick himself. _Don't think of it like that, Krad. You know what I mean._

_Silly Master Satoshi. I know what you mean, and it's definitely not what you want me to know._

_Just what exactly are you implying, Krad?_

_What do you think I'm implying, dear Master?_

Satoshi shook his head, his delicate brows furrowed. _I don't know why I've put up with you for this long. I've told you not to bother me during school. Go to sleep and shut up._

_You are certainly amusing to converse with, _Krad commented, a smirk clear on his face. _Such a confused Hikari indeed… Good day, Satoshi-sama._

And with that, the blonde angel's stifling presence retreated to the mysterious recesses of Satoshi's mind.

------

_You held Creepy Boy's haaaaaaaaand._

…

_You looove Creepy Boy._

_Dark…_

_You want to fuuuuu-_

_SHUT UP, DARK!_ Daisuke's face flushed as he lifted a box of cords to a ladder-borne senpai, and it wasn't because he was tired.

_Admit it, Daisuke. You looooove Creepy Boy-_

_I don't want to talk about it, Dark._

_Talk about what? Your love for Creepy Boy?_

_Dark, go to sleep._

_HAH! Not bloody likely, you perv! The minute I fall asleep, the first thing you and Creepy Boy are gonna do is run straight into the storage closet and-_

_DARK! _Daisuke glared at the first thing he encountered on his trip to pick up another box: a wall. It was a deep mauve color and reminded him vaguely of Dark. Perhaps he should punch it…

_Eeeee… Violence is not the answer, Dai-chan. You of all people should know that. Besides, Creepy Boy doesn't strike me as the masochistic type. A sadist, maybe? But still…he's pretty uke-ish, don't you say?_

Daisuke sighed flatly and continued to glare at the wall. What genius painted a wall violet?

_But then again, so are you. Oh dear. Quite a predicament you two've landed yourselves in. Two lone ukes without a seme to fu- eh…guide- them. Maybe I should join you…_

Daisuke vaguely wondered if Dark's blood would be a better color to paint the wall with. These openly broadcasted thoughts were ignored as said thief continued to talk.

_Hm… But Creepy Boy certainly won't approve of that. So I'm obviously kicked out._

Daisuke walked up to the wall and ran his hand over it. Hard enough to shut Dark up; soft enough to cause himself only minimal harm.

_I guess I can't join you then. Awww. Ah well. I can still give you tips! Yessss! First, you grab his-_

_DAAAAAARK!_

_Gods, Dai, you're such a pervert. I was gonna say 'hand.'_

_Of course you were, Dark. Now I really need to get back to work. If you would so kindly GO TO SLEEP and STOP SAYING THAT I LOVE HIWATARI-KUN, then that would be great. Thanks._

Daisuke's mental self smiled widely at a deaf Dark and pushed him to the back of his mind, where the thief's obscene comments would not reach him.

With a newfound happiness, Daisuke turned away from the wall with a smile –

– only to have it quickly melt away when he found himself face-to-face with the director. She glared at him, hands on her hips, and he blinked in response.

"Niwa. Find something interesting on the wall there?" Kawa Ika was not happy.

"Eh… No…Kawa-senpai."

"It sure looked like it, Niwa. You were staring at it without moving for almost five minutes."

"Gomen, Kawa-senpai…"

Ika sighed. "I'm not even going to justify you with a response, Niwa. Go dress up."

Daisuke swallowed the lump in his throat and repeated Ika's words. "Dress up?"

Ika smiled down at him, gloss-painted lips pulled up so widely that Daisuke wasn't sure whether or not they were still connected to her face. "Yep! And as punishment for wasting five minutes staring at your beloved wall, you have to dress in full costume."

Daisuke could only open and close his mouth dumbly, doing the perfect imitation of a fish out of water. After a few more gapes, he finally managed to utter one word piteously: "Heels?"

He didn't hear the pop, but somehow, Daisuke knew that her jaw had unhinged from the length of her smile. It probably could have reached her ears if it was possible. It didn't even _look_ like a smile anymore; just two rows of teeth that housed double more than the usual number.

"Heels, wig- you name it. Except makeup, though. Yumi-chan's out sick today." Daisuke breathed out a sigh of relief. "But if she wasn't-" He sucked it back in and held it. "-your face would _so_ be periwinkle blue." He laughed nervously. "_However_-" The laugh was cut short. "-you've got to put on a little lipstick and eye shadow. Ask one of the girls to do it for you. Hah! Now hop to it, Niwa. I'll give you ten minutes."

Ika stomped off, her short skirt lifting slightly in the breeze she had created. Daisuke was glad his skirt wasn't that short.

"Oh, and Niwa-kun?" Her voice turned sickly sweet as she called over her shoulder. "All of the girls have been complaining about your skirt. Raise it up a few inches. Don't be afraid to show some skin!"

Daisuke withered to a stump at the thought before trudging to his dressing room. However, his thoughts of his cross-dressing doom slowly melted away, instead replaced with Dark's words.

He was used to the kaitou's consistent teasing – because the baka did it all the bloody time – but this time it was different. It stung at him ferociously, nestling in the middle of his heart and refusing to leave.

Just like Satoshi.

Not that Daisuke could understand that yet.

------

"Niwa! Come out now! We're gonna start rehearsing!" A senpai banged on Daisuke's dressing room, he himself already clad in civilian clothes for his part in the play. A crowd had gathered behind him, all waiting for the star of the production to come out.

Unexpectedly, the door banged open, and an upset girl came stomping out. Everyone ignored her, and the door shut again. The senpai banged on it for good measure. "Niiiwwwaaaaaa…… Ouuuutttt…… Nooooooowwwwww……"

"Kazuma-kun!" Ika called down to the senpai and the crowd from her seat in front of the stage. "Get on stage! We're about to begin!"

"But Niwa isn't out yet," Kazuma replied.

"Yes he is."

"We haven't seen him come out yet."

"Are you blind? He's right up there." Ika pointed and the crowd turned to the stage. There was the upset girl. She looked rather familiar…

"I don't believe it! Niwa?" People gasped and some drooling second years found themselves doubting their orientations.

Daisuke blushed at all the attention and turned to Satoshi. Even the ice block of Azumano Middle School looked amused. Well…he didn't look it, to the unfamiliar eye, but Daisuke had spent enough time around him to spot the slight sparkle in those usually cold eyes. The redhead was bubbly inside, knowing that it was him who caused Satoshi's happiness. He didn't notice how much this bubbly feeling reinforced Dark's words.

"Nice skirt, Niwa-kun." Satoshi let a small smirk play on his lips.

Daisuke glared as the blush spread madly. "Oh yeah? Well…well… You… Aie! There's nothing wrong with you – you're perfect!" He didn't see Satoshi stiffen at the comment.

"Hey lovebirds, save the romance for the play! Niwa, get in position and raise that skirt."

Daisuke gasped in horror. "Iie! I won't!"

"Niwa!" Ika's voice was grinding. "My mother doesn't even wear her skirt that low. Raise it!"

Daisuke reluctantly did so, though Ika had to keep yelling at him to raise it high after each adjustment (because each adjustment wasn't to Ika's satisfaction).

"Perfect." Ika grinned, leaving Daisuke's blush an unhealthy shade of deep maroon, and his skirt raised from its former position under his knees. "Hey, Hiwatari, what's up?"

The blunette looked deathly pale, with his eyes widened half a centimeter more than normal, and his mouth slightly opened in shock. No one could tell what was going on in that mind of his, and of that, he was glad.

Because his mind was playing and replaying the scene his eyes had just witnessed. The skirt started just under Daisuke's knees. Higher. Above the knees, though still covering his high boots. Higher. Satoshi spotted the ribbons connected to the tops of his boots. Higher. A small strip of smooth skin. Higher. Several more inches of pale skin. Higher. More than half of a slim, though toned, thigh. Higher. The skirt struck home. It was higher than the girls' at Azumano Middle School, and – dare I say it? – rivaled those of the high schoolers.

Satoshi stopped breathing when Daisuke turned to him with large, watery eyes. "Hiwatari-kun…" he whined cutely. "My…skirt…is too short."

Satoshi was trying very, very hard not to give into temptation and look down at the thief's exposed thighs. He swallowed, and without thinking, responded with: "I think it's too long."

Daisuke blinked. "Na…nani?"

Satoshi felt like whacking himself. "I said, 'I agree'."

Daisuke looked relieved. "Heh. For a second there, I thought you had said something else."

"I didn't."

There was an awkward silence between the two before Ika called for their attention.

"Now! Before we start, I have some good news. Our scriptwriters have finally finished the script! Mizuno-kun'll pass the endings out. Staple them to your first copy later. You can read through them for a while, though."

Satoshi and Daisuke took their script endings from the stagehand and skimmed through them absently –

– only to simultaneously shut them in horror, stare at each other, then turn away with identical blushes on their faces. Daisuke even went so far as to throw his on the ground and stomp on it madly.

Ika stared at them oddly. "What are your problems?"

"Have you read through this yet?" Satoshi asked, managing to encase his terror and anxiety with calmness. Daisuke, however, had never been the best at doing that. Instead, he…

"OH MY GOD." Stomp. "WHAT THE HELL?" Stomp. "OF COURSE SHE HASN'T." Stomp. "IF SHE HAD, SHE WOULDN'T HAVE LET IT PASS." Blast. "RIGHT KAWA-SENPAI?" Boom. "RIGHT?" Asplode.

"Actually, I have read it."

Daisuke froze. "Na-nani?"

"I read it, and I loved it!"

"B-but…"

"Niwa, if you didn't want to do this, you shouldn't have signed up."

"You forced me!" Daisuke cried, pointing at her accusingly.

"Yeah, well… Whatever. You should have been expecting this anyway. A guy PI and a girl thief? You know there's romance abound!"

"I was told this was purely action."

Several people laughed. One even yelled out, "There _is_ action, Niwa – and it's between you and Hiwatari!"

Daisuke felt like sinking into the floor and disappearing forever. But then again… Why… Why was he feeling excited…?

------

Satoshi looked up from his customary slice of bread at the sound of the door opening beside him. He knew who it was. After all, no one else knew where he hung out for lunch, and if they did, they neither cared, nor had the courage to join him. He could tell by the hesitant swing of the door and the dainty sound of footsteps that it was Daisuke. But knowing this didn't stop him from turning his attention to the redhead. He was, after all, pleasing to the eye.

Yes. Satoshi was in love with Daisuke. Madly, even, if he would go so far. It had taken him quite a long time to admit it to himself, but he had done it.

But… He was a Hikari, and Daisuke was a Niwa. It was virtually unheard of. They were both boys. It was disgustingly frowned upon. They were enemies by night, housing powerful magical beings that symbolized the lifelong feud between their families. It was…it was… A fairytale.

Weren't fairytales happy, though? There was no suffering, no pain, no constant yearning for the sweet release death would bring. Satoshi supposed their fairytale was special. It would not end with a happy ending. There would be no magnificently scribed _Fin_ below the moment when they would share a sweet kiss, all their burdens cast off to the darkness. Instead, happy times and romantic moments would be replaced with the promise of blood and the bringing of tragedy.

Daisuke sat beside Satoshi, opened his bento box, and pushed it in between the two of them. Inside were two pairs of chopsticks. He took the set of icy blue ones and smiled encouragingly in Satoshi's direction.

Satoshi took another miniscule bite of his bread – he had gone a little wild today and packed _wheat_ – and stared down at the remaining pair of chopsticks. They were bright red. The blunette pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking up at the Niwa boy.

The smile Daisuke showed to everyone was directed right at him – and only for him – even as he ate.

For that smile, for that boy, he would endure the pain. Daisuke was his trigger, his first love; but for both of them, he would keep his silence.

"Stop smiling at me," Satoshi ordered icily. He picked up the chopsticks, only to please the smaller boy, of course, and selected the smallest treat in the box. As he inserted it into his mouth and began to chew slowly, he glared at the laughter still flickering in those vibrant scarlet eyes.

"Saehara cornered me before I got up here," Daisuke spoke conversationally, for he was mainly the only one who talked during these luncheon meetings.

Satoshi nodded, sinking in the pleasure of listening to Daisuke's voice.

"He kept nagging me about how lucky I was to be in this play; about how I didn't have to go to my classes or didn't have to make up any work." He laughed, and Satoshi heard bells.

"But it's not as glamorous as it sounds!" Daisuke popped a roll into his mouth, chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. "I told him that. I said he was the lucky one. _He's_ not the one who has to kiss a boy- one of his best friends, of all people!"

Satoshi gave Daisuke that hard, penetrating look. Best friend?

"Aie…" Daisuke took it the wrong way. "It's not that I don't want to kiss you, or anything. I mean, I don't, but- I mean I do, but- Uh… You're a very kissable person, Hiwatari-kun, and I… But I don't…or maybe I do… I- ah…"

Satoshi, inwardly amused at the cute redhead's floundering, remained impassive. He merely picked up a napkin, blotted it gently on the corner of Daisuke's moving lips, and put it back down. "You had a little lipstick on your lip," he replied to Daisuke's questioning eyes, as though that explained everything.

"Um… Thank you," Daisuke squeaked, feeling his lips with two fingers as though they had been intimately touched.

"Listen, Niwa-kun." Wow. Satoshi _was_ being wild today. First the wheat bread, then actually _talking_ during lunch? Move over Jackie Chan, Hiwatari Satoshi's in town!

"I wanted to know if you would come over to my apartment with me after school. I wanted to practice…the…the…" Damn it! Satoshi wasn't usually like this around people. He was calm. He was collected.

He was stuttering like a love-struck schoolgirl. "The…end part of the- the…script! Yeah…the script…" he finally managed to spit out. He didn't notice the pink blush adorning his cheeks.

Daisuke's face flushed, and his eyes widened to an unimaginable size. "E-excuse me, Hiwatari-kun?"

"Niwa-kun, you know as well as I do that the whole world is against us. Well, the Azumano schools are, anyway. Have you seen the way they stare at us?" Satoshi pushed his face closer to Daisuke's, chopsticks and bag of bread forgotten. "The way they comment on us being a couple? You _know_ they're not letting us get away from that…kiss. They'll be waiting, Niwa-kun. They all want to see it, see it like the freakish boy/boy-loving maniacs they are. I don't know about you, but I don't want to make a fool of myself in front of them. I…need…" He breathed in deeply, then slowly let it out. "Practice."

Daisuke giggled in spite of himself. He didn't think the oh-so-handsome and popular Satoshi needed practice in _that_ department. But then again, Satoshi was anti-relationship, so he could vaguely understand.

"Okay," Daisuke agreed, surprised at how easily the reply slid out of his mouth. "After school, we'll practice the ending scene!"

_BRIIIINNNGGG_

Satoshi picked up his abandoned red chopsticks and deposited them back into the bento box. "I'm glad you've seen it my way." The pink flush still hadn't faded from his cheeks, and he feared that Daisuke was inwardly mocking him. "I'll see you later."

The commander lifted himself to his feet with so much grace and lack of effort that it seemed as though he floated himself up. As he turned heel and opened the door to the staircase, he tried to stifle the fast beating of his heart. The rate and speed of its beats couldn't be healthy, he concluded. He ought to stop.

_Ba-bum-ba-bum-ba-bum._

No such luck.

------

"Niwa-kun."

Daisuke turned and spotted Satoshi standing by the gate, where the blunette had raised an arm up at him to gain his attention. It was a calm gesture, reserved solely for the commander himself, for he was above waving excitedly, jumping up and down, and screaming out Daisuke's name. However calm it was, it was reserved for Satoshi because only he could pull it off. Performed by another other person, that person would have been dubbed rude and unenthusiastic.

Then again, Satoshi was always like that. He didn't give a damn, and he didn't lift a finger for _anybody_. Getting him to hold up an elbow, an arm, _and_ a hand for you was like getting a chicken to pick out its own roasting sauce.

Running up to him, Daisuke's face split into a worried frown. "Hiwatari-kun. Have you been waiting long?" he asked anxiously. "I had to dodge past Harada-san and Riku-san by hiding behind the water fountain, and I made Saehara run face first into a door so I could get away."

Satoshi found the fact that Takeshi just might have injured that huge mouth of his funny. "No. I've just arrived."

Daisuke grinned. "It's good that I didn't make you stand out here for forever. Some girl might have just popped up and decided to take me Hiwatari-kun away."

Stunned by the brightness of Daisuke's smile, and by the fact that he apparently belonged to the redhead, Satoshi failed to tell the smaller one that he probably would have stood out there forever, and would have beaten the crap out of anyone who tried to deter him. Instead, Satoshi said, "Why don't we head on to my place?"

Daisuke nodded enthusiastically. "Okay!"

"I'm afraid I don't have a ride to offer you." Satoshi led Daisuke off school grounds and onto the sidewalk. "But I don't live very far. I hope you don't mind.

"Oh, no, of course I don't."

And the walk continued on with an awkward silence hanging over their heads.

_Daisuke._ Dark sounded serious, albeit drowsy.

_Yes, Dark?_

_Where are you going?_

_I…_ Daisuke thought about lying and telling Dark to go back to sleep, but decided the kaitou was being mature enough to handle the truth. _I'm going to Hiwatari-kun's house._

However, all thoughts of the thief's maturity levels flew out the window when he spoke his next words teasingly.

_What's this? Heading home with Creepy Boy?_

Daisuke sighed. _Yes._

_Heh… I'll approve. THIS TIME. But you have to promise me one thing._

_And what's that? _Daisuke asked, humoring his other half. He wouldn't really keep whatever promise Dark proposed. Especially is it was something perverted, like 'Take pictures!' or 'Don't wake me up with all the moaning you're gonna do.'

_Promise me that you'll… Bring protection!_

_DARK!_ Daisuke's inner self jumped around madly in his head, trying to whack said angel. _I told you not to say things like that to me!_

Dark burst out laughing. _Dai! You really ARE a pervert! I meant a_ bat.

Daisuke blushed. _No you didn't! Besides, what would I do with a bat?_

_Duh,_ Dark yelled out, as if the words he was going to say were the most obvious in the world. _Hit the Hikari boy with it._

Daisuke blanched. _Why would I hit Hiwatari-kun?_

_Duuurrrr. In case he…_does…_things to you._

_What would he do to me?_

_Y'know… _Creepy _things… Like _look _at you funny._

_He always looks at me funny._

_THEN HIT HIM WITH A BAT._

"I am not going to hit Hiwatari-kun with a bat!"

Blink.

"Um… I'm not sure when the opportunity came up, but… Thank you?"

"Eh… Sorry." Daisuke laughed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Dark is…"

Satoshi nodded. "I see." His hand delved into a back pocket and expelled a key.

"Wow, that was fast! …Time flies when you share bodies with a pervert." Daisuke muttered the last part to himself.

"What was that?" Satoshi asked absently as the door swung open. "Hm. Never mind. Come in."

Daisuke stared into the dark apartment, feeling an involuntary shudder rack through his body. In his head, Dark was playing suspenseful music.

_Heh heh heh… I'm going to sleep for a while. Be a good little fu-_

_DAAARRRRKKKK!_

_-umigator. Apartment fumigator. Yeah. That. Yeah… 'Night! Zzzzzzzzzz._

_Dark…_ Daisuke ground out.

_ZzZzZzZzZzZz._

------

"Let. Me. Go," Daisuke growled dangerously, his flashing scarlet eyes shooting daggers at Satoshi's.

A cool chuckle escaped the other's lips. "Not until I've gotten a good look at you." Satoshi pulled his bent arm towards himself.

Silence.

"Eh… Niwa-kun. You're supposed to come forward with my arm."

"Aie! Oops…" Daisuke wilted. "I'm sorry. I forgot."

Satoshi put his arm down and patted Daisuke on the shoulder in an awkward-consoling sort of way. "It's okay. Once we get the handcuffs on, it'll be much easier."

_What's this I hear about handcuffs?_ screamed a horrified voice. It seemed Krad had woken up.

_Nothing,_ Satoshi retorted. _Go back to sleep._

_I refuse to do anything of the sort! Not when the baka no kaitou's vessel is obviously throwing himself at my Satoshi-sama._

_Throwing himself at me? Krad, we're two feet apart!_

_He's much too close to you, Master. Let me rip out his throat._ Krad's ghostly hands gently caressed Satoshi's neck.

Satoshi growled.

"Dark, shut up!"

Satoshi ignored Krad and looked up at Daisuke. Said boy was blushing a very unnatural shade of red, and trying to block out his ears. "Niwa-kun?"

Daisuke's blush deepened and he ducked his head. "Sorry, Hiwatari-kun. Dark was being a little… Lewd."

"Hn. I'll bet. Come on, let's try to get this right."

"Aa."

And so the two continued to practice, though not without difficulties. There was a time when Satoshi somehow managed to elbow himself in the face (Krad had let out an uncharacteristic snort of laughter), and even a time when Daisuke went forward too fast and landed sprawled suggestively over the blunette (to which Krad took control of Satoshi's hands and tried to haul the redhead off by the waist, only to mistakenly grab his ass).

However, he problems slowly began to fade within time, and they had finally made it to one of the latter parts of the scene, having gotten through the handcuff pieces.

"Just tell me one thing, Dorobou-kun," Satoshi whispered, pressing their faces closer together. "Why me? Why not some other schmoe off the street? And most important of all, why did you take those pictures? They were all I had left of them!"

Daisuke pressed themselves even closer, faces nose-to-nose. "Tantei-kun, do you want to know why I steal?" He didn't give Satoshi time to answer. "It's because I can't have the things I steal. And believe me, I _want_ the things I steal."

"What is this?" Satoshi growled. "Why the _hell_ did you take those pictures? Did you want those pictures _that_ badly?"

"Of course I don't want your stupid dead family's pictures!" Daisuke snapped back. "I wanted to make you forget them!"

"Why would you want to do that?" Throughout the entire conversation, their volume had begun to elevate, and by this time, Satoshi was roaring. "What is your problem?"

"My problem!" Daisuke jangled his fist for effect, though it lacked the jingle the set of handcuffs were to make. "My problem is you! I stole to get something I want!"

"What do you _want_?"

"I want _you_!"

Satoshi paused, the words sinking in. He knew it was a part of the script, but coming out of Daisuke's mouth, and directed to him of all people, it was completely believable. Of course, there was a deliberate pause on his part in the script after these words, so no scarlet eyebrows were raised at his silence.

"What…what are you saying?"

"The first moment we met wasn't 'seductive thief protocol.' The first moment we met was _heaven_ to me. I _loved_ you right then and there!" And thus Daisuke went into a long-winded profession of love, stumbling on a few words every here and there.

"You…what?"

"I _love_ you, moron!"

Satoshi's shoulders were shaking. "You've taken something from me, Dorobou-kun."

Daisuke's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Is this what you want, Tantei-kun? To live in the past? In the brooding shadows of your family's death? Is this what you want?" he repeated.

"You misunderstand me." Satoshi's voice was sultry soft, and the passion in his eyes was so well created that Daisuke felt like shuddering and hiding under a rock. "I do not want what you've taken from me. I want to repay you. A kiss for a heart, dear Dorobou-kun."

And with that, the blunette leaned in sensually, eyes closed peacefully. Both boys blushed heavily as he slowly neared his target. Then…

Satoshi lightly – and quickly – pecked Daisuke on the lips before hastily pulling away. His cheeks were redder than his school pants.

_That bastard! I'LL KILL HIM. He's deflowered you, Satoshi-sama!_

Daisuke was just as red at Satoshi. He tenderly touched his lips, then turned to the taller one with a bashful grin on his face. "You call that a kiss, Hiwatari-kun?"

"Nani?" Needless to say, Satoshi was surprised.

_He's trying to seduce you! LET ME KILL HIM._

"I thought you needed practice…" Daisuke was even darker than their school pants now, but he seemed determined. "Now's the only time we can do this alone, Hiwatari-kun. Let's practice!"

Were Satoshi's ears deceiving him? Was Daisuke _encouraging_ him to kiss him? Hell, he couldn't say no to that!

"Niwa-kun…" Satoshi trailed off uncertainly. Daisuke only blushed harder and nodded. "Oh… All right."

Satoshi leaned in closer, breathing slowly and trying to placate his beating heart. He couldn't believe it… It was truly, utterly… He just couldn't believe it.

He pressed a soft, chaste kiss on the smaller one's sweet lips and, after a good amount of time in which the butterflies in his stomach flew around to a fatal excess and died right in there, he parted.

Daisuke looked slightly dreamy with a bemused smile on his face. "Hm…" he murmured, his lips parting. "Still sucked…" And this time, he took the initiative (even though his character did nothing of the sort in the script), pressing his lips against Satoshi's.

Once again, Satoshi was in heaven. However, Daisuke pulled away and smiled at him timidly. "Well?"

"More practice," Satoshi decided, though it sounded more like a grunt. Daisuke giggled innocently, and somewhere in the middle, their eyes met.

Bright cerulean bore into pulsing scarlet, and a message was passed between the two. Then, as though by some enigmatic, unexplainable force, their lips joined – the force was at play, for neither of the two had instigated it. It was a simple thing, really, but to Satoshi, it was magic. It was more than eight seconds, that's what it was.

Daisuke's lips were warm against his, and the redhead hummed throatily, sending vibrations through Satoshi's mouth. It was there: the spark their earlier attempts had lacked. And the spark fueled Satoshi on.

The blunette wrapped his arms around Daisuke's neck and pressed their bodies closer together. He experimentally flicked his tongue out and slowly traced the contour of the other's lips, causing Daisuke to gasp in surprise and give him entrance to the moist caverns of his mouth. Satoshi shed all hesitation and delved into the warmth, exploring each balmy crevice with a wild animalism he never knew he possessed.

A new variable introduced itself in the exploration and Satoshi lurched at the new sensation: Daisuke's shy tongue had sprung to life and began to dance alongside Satoshi's.

_Satoshi-sama! SATOSHI-DAMN-FUCKING-SAMA! What are you doing? Don't let him touch you with that dirty tongue of his!_

Satoshi's mind was fogged in a pleasurable fog. Vaguely wondering who that strange, fuzzy voice was, he continued to plunder Daisuke's mouth, floating deeper into the blind haze.

_Satoshi-sama! Get him off you! There's a vase right there on the coffee table. Hit him with it! Better yet, hit him with the coffee table!_

Satoshi groaned into Daisuke's mouth, their tongues passionately dancing to a melody only they could hear. Somehow, during their voracious lip lock, they had found themselves with their shins pressing against the face of the couch.

Satoshi's subconscious gently steered Daisuke's limp body to the soft cushioning of the couch. He laid him down on his back, busying himself with placing butterfly kisses down the redhead's jaw. The blunette climbed onto the sofa, his knees sinking into fluff of the couch, and straddled Daisuke's hips.

"I love you…" Satoshi whispered, though in his hazy state, the words had slipped out unintentionally. It was no use taking it back now. He didn't want to, anyway. He claimed Daisuke's lips once again, ready to continue his ministrations, when his love grew stiff beneath him. "What…what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry…" Daisuke murmured quietly. Satoshi felt his eyes sting and his heart lurch uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, Hiwatari-kun."

Satoshi felt his skin grow cold. After all they had been through just now – he was still Hiwatari-kun?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Daisuke said, his volume increasing slightly. His eyes grew wider, and his brows creased worriedly. "We shouldn't have… I shouldn't have… Please get off me!" Satoshi did as told, scrambling off the panicky redhead. "I'm sorry, Hiwatari-kun." Daisuke pulled himself up off the couch, scuttling away from the blunette hastily. "Please…um… I'm sorry! I don't know what came over me… I have to go home. I have to go."

The little thief grabbed his bag from the corner of the room and practically ran to the door, his back quickly growing smaller, until finally, the door shut behind him.

The clang of door against threshold was all Satoshi heard before his ears were filled with ringing. The stinging in his eyes had grown worse, and by the time he realized he was crying, several trails of salty tears had already found their way down his cheeks. With slow, shaking hands, the commander took his glasses off so that the warm liquid would not moisten them.

_Satoshi-sama…_

Satoshi sank onto his knees, and his back found refuge leaning against the face of the sofa.

_Satoshi-sama… Look what he has made you._

They were simple words, a repetition of a conversation they had had earlier that day. But with that loving tenor Krad always applied when speaking to his Tamer, Satoshi found it a lifeline.

_But it's all right, Satoshi-sama. I still love you._

Satoshi mindlessly grasped the lifeline, holding on to it and savoring the words the one he truly loved could not tell him. He had lostall hope, and Krad could only smile.

_That's right, Satoshi-sama. You are mine._

They were disturbing words, but Satoshi could care less. Ghostly arms wrapped themselves around his shaking form, and he knew no more.

------

_Daisuke?_

_What? _Daisuke snapped, his tone moody.

_Are you doing okay? You ran out of there pretty fast._

_Well what do you expect? I was about to turn into YOU._

_And you did._ It was true. Dark had emerged from the hasty Daisuke once he had reached the lift of Satoshi's apartment complex. Currently, the kaitou was dodging behind trees and buildings and slipping into the shadows in order to conceal the fact that he, the great Phantom Thief Dark was off gallivanting through some unnamed boulevard in broad daylight.

_No shit, Sherlock,_ was Daisuke's hot response.

_Hey, hey,_ Dark admonished. _Don't go biting my head off. I'm not the one you're angry with._

_Then who should I be angry with?_

_No one!_ Dark hopped carefully over a dog that looked suspiciously like Saehara senior. _Why are you PMSing, anyway?_

_I…_ Daisuke paused as he searched for words. _I turned into you._

_Well here's a newsflash for you, Dai-chan: that's old news. You turn into me whenever-_

_I'm with someone I like._

_Took the words right out of my mouth. Now what's the problem?_ Dark was nearly back on familiar ground. The school loomed up at him several blocks away. He headed towards it, knowing the trip would be much faster if he took Daisuke's usual route home.

_What's the problem?_ Daisuke repeated shrilly. _I'll tell you the problem – I was with Hiwatari-kun!_

…_Yeah, so?_

Daisuke let out a long string of nonsense that contained many semicolons and 'gjsdgfu's. _So? Waddaya mean 'so'? I was with_ Hiwatari-kun. _Last time I checked, I only transformed around the Haradas. Last time I checked, Hiwatari-kun was only a friend. Last time I checked-_

_Last time **I** checked,_ Dark interrupted loudly, _you had a crush on that- 'quote unquote'- friend, and it's finally been confirmed. You two are an item._

Daisuke sputtered and a few 'OMFGWTFH?'s floated around his head. _What? We are not!_

_Humph! Call me old-fashioned, but back in my day, when two kids held a make out session together, they became an item._

_I-it wasn't a make out session!_ Daisuke exclaimed with panic.

_It wasn't?_ Dark feigned confusion. _Then what do you call you letting him molest your mouth with his tongue?_

_We-well… I- he…_

Dark rolled his eyes. _Save your stuttering for Hiwatari._ He entered the gates of Azumano Middle School and found a nearby bench. _Now I'm going to sit here until you come out._

_The only way I can come out is by you transforming into me._

Dark chortled and mentally patted Daisuke on the head. _Such a naïve little Tamer you are. Think more general. Think something any other little boy would go through. Think a closet._

…_? Come out… Closet…_ Daisuke strung the two thoughts together and jumped. _Come out of the closet?_ he demanded. _What the hell do you mean by that?_

Dark sighed. _Quit being all ADD-y and focus here, Dai. You turned into me in the company of a certain Hikari. AAAAND, you madeout with him for only-Kami-knows-how-long. You LOVE him, and you're in denial._

_I don't love him! I don't know why I kissed him! It just happened. I would take it back if I could._

_No you wouldn't. You had a chance to back down. You could have left it at that stupid peck, but noooooooo. You even coaxed him into it! If you didn't love him, what was that all about? You know he loves you. Did you want to lead him on? Trick him into thinking you felt the same, then crush his stupid little Hikari heart? I had no idea you could be so cruel, Daisuke._

_Dark, stop it. Just stop it. You have no idea how I feel._

_Bullshit,_ Dark snapped, his features suddenly clouded with a seriousness that did not suit his usually playful face. The uncharacteristic haze melted away as soon as it came, and his calm, handsome features were restored. Albeit, however well the façade played its part, Dark could not disguise the hints of frustration in his voice. _I know exactly how you feel. You think you're disgusting, so you locked away all your attractions to that creepy bastard. When all that bundled desire began to seep out, you pushed it away. When it finally exploded in your face, you let it take over, and Frenched Hikari. Then, he told you that he lovedyouand you snapped. Finally hearing it from him, you wanted to scrape that explosion off your face and shove it in his mouth, like your tongue, but instead, his confession triggered me, and you panicked like a little sissy girl, and ran away. Now you're disgusted again, and instead of locking everything away, you're trying to eliminate all thoughts of attraction to Hikari by denying them._

…

There was a long, broad silence – its span reaching almost five minutes – before Daisuke finally spoke.

_I don't know what you're talking about,_ he stated.

Dark growled. And he was all up in the moment, too! The kaitou prepared to dive into another long-winded love lecture when a sniff was heard in his head, followed by huge torrents of sadness crashing into his heart. A grim, humorless smile fixed itself upon Daisuke's lips and he let out a weak chuckle.

_I don't know what you're talking about,_ Daisuke repeated, his voice shaking and his eyes slightly watery. _B…but it still hurts to hear. Dark…_ The smile reappeared, but it was unreadable. _You may be right…_

_Of course I am._ The kaitou's voice held none of its customary swagger; Daisuke just didn't need any of his arrogance at the moment.

Dark hauled himself off the bench and slipped into the shadows, separating his thoughts from Daisuke's to allow his poor Tamer the privacy to brood his words.

------

**1: **This happened to two boys in my class. Jacob and Adrian were holding hands during church, 'cause we were doing the Our Father, and when it was over, Jacob was still holding Adrian's hand. Adrian was waiting for forever, and finally, after like…two minutes (Hey, it seems short, but in reality, it's a fricken' long time to hold someone's hand.), he hissed, "You can let go of my hand now, you fag!" and ripped his hand out of Jacob's. xDDD It had to bite my palm to stop laughing out loud in church. I just had to put it in the story (crossing out the fag thing, of course xD).

**Killah:** Omg. :o This is my first DNAngel fic EVER, so I'm sorry if the characterizations are off, or if I spelled something wrong. I just thought that I've spent enough time lurking around this fandom – it's time for baka no Killah to…DO…eh…SOMETHING! Heheheheh… /cough/ Anywhoosle, review and send me your feedback. Whether it's a compliment, or a threat to go drown myself and never write again, I'll take it. n.n

And also, I didn't really plan all the romance-angsty-ness at the end. o.O It just…popped out, y'know? …Yeah. Too dramatic for my liking. X.x /yucky face/

**Next Chapter: **The play is performed (Omfg, yes, the _actual_ play! You get to read the _entire_ flippin' play. xDDD It's like two stories in one! Bwuhahaha……..) and Daisuke comes to terms with himself. A confession is made, and more drama unfolds (Ick. X.x) – all of it on stage, but not in the script.


	2. Well Gee, That's Not Very Nice

**Title: **Tribulation Within**  
Pairing: **Satoshi/Daisuke

**Summary: **(SatoshiDaisuke) (3shot) Daisuke forgets his lines on the night of the new play he's performing in. When forced to make up a passionate profession of love to confess to Satoshi, the private investigator, he realizes he doesn't have to make one up at all: he just has to speak his heart.

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own. /mushroom sigh/

**Japanese Vocabulary  
**Futago: twins  
Sensei: teacher  
Ohayou: good morning  
Yami no Dorobou: thief of darkness/dark thief  
Ore-sama: super respectful way of referring to one's self (males)  
Kouhai: underclassman (opposite of senpai)

OH! I FORGOT TO TELL YOU ALL THAT- /cough/ Eh… I'll stop the caps now. xD Anywhoosle, I forgot to tell you that when I went to the Philippines, I was flipping through the channels and found **DNANGEL ON TV**! BWUHAHA……… /evil laughter/ xDDD Riku's hair was flippin' orange. O.o It was unnatural… /shudders/ But alas… /sigh/ Everyone was speaking Tagalog! I was all like, "Omfg, what are they saying! Auggghhh………" Eh… But at least I got to watch the anime! …Even though I already did on YouTube (/cough/ YAY FOR JAP SUBS! ./cough/)… Heh… I don't think any of you care, but I needed to let that out. XD Carry on with the reading!

/squeal/ AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I love you, my precious reviewers! I thought you'd all throw rocks at me or something. /sniffle/ I feel so welcomed in this new fandom! AHHHHHH! .X I swear I'll explode if I get some more of that positive feedback! **Yohko**, you may translate my fic (horrible as it is x.X) into French, though I expect credit where credit is due, m'kay, sweetie? XD I'm so strange. And **Yue**, you were right. XD This did turn into a tri-chapter fic. xD

------

The next morning, on the way to school (he just wanted to skip it and gallivant right on to the high school for practice, but Ika had set down the rule that he, Satoshi, and the other volunteers had to at least show up for roll call; it was common courtesy), Daisuke was thinking. How _ever_ would he apologize to Satoshi and…and…admit his…eh…

It had taken Daisuke all night to pull himself out of that little corner of his mind dubbed 'denial dentistry services,' and even when he did, he had the bad habit of blushing when the subject of to whom his affections were directed came up in a conversation with Dark. He had realized that everything Dark said had been true, but it was still embarrassing to admit it aloud, let alone to Satoshi. So that left him with the problem he was currently brooding:

How was he going to confess his attraction to Satoshi?

Daisuke kicked a rock and held onto the straps of his backpack with his thumbs. He couldn't just walk up to him, pat him cheerfully on the shoulder, and yell out, "I'm sorry for running away when we were making out on your couch yesterday, and for leaving you there all turned on and depressed! But I love you now, so we can do it again!" That was just sad…

Dark had liked the idea, of course, and he oh-so-helpfully pointed out that the confession needed a hot maid's uniform, but Daisuke quickly shut him up.

The redhead kicked the rock again, and this time, it soared in the air several feet. He watched it fall, and winced when it hit some poor bystander, flanked by two girls, in the head.

"Itai!" The bystander floundered around, looking as though he were clumsily dancing to the melody of the two girls' laughter. "Who was that? I'll swear, I'll write a nasty article about 'em! 'Crazy Maniac Attacks Innocent Reporter!' Hey, stop laughing at me, Harada-futago!"

Daisuke ran up to Takeshi with apologetic laughter bubbling from his mouth. "Sorry, Saehara. The rock tried to kill me– I had to defend myself."

Takeshi nodded wisely, hand contemplatively holding his chin. "Ah, yes, so they have gotten to you, too?"

"Eh…" Daisuke blinked at his strange, paranoid friend before blatantly spinning around to face the Harada twins. "Good morning, Harada-san, Riku-san."

"Morning, Niwa," both replied simultaneously (it was a twin thing o.O).

"Why are you three here?" Daisuke asked as the four began to walk.

Riku held her bike steady, careful not to let the front wheel spin out of her control. "Risa and I met up with Saehara, and he said you lived around here, so we decided to wait up for you. …Of course, we would have just gone ahead if you were late, but I guess we're all lucky today."

Daisuke rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Heh… I actually woke up on time today."

"S'not like it would've mattered, Niwa. You're just gonna leave, anyway."

Daisuke resisted from the task of rolling his eyes. Takeshi was at it again.

"Man, I wish I were you (except looking like my own, handsome self, not weird, like you, with giant eyes and funny hair). You get to skip out on all your classes except lunch, stop turning in your homework, _and_ hang out with busty high school girls!" This earned a hardy smack upside the head, courtesy of Risa.

Daisuke turned red. "It's not like that, Saehara." Then he thought about said 'busty high school girls,' and immediately died. Well, no, but whatever. Instead, he began to speak of the horrific tales relating to his senpais, each of them more terrifying than the last. "Now that I think about it, I wish you were me, too!"

"Hey, Niwa, it can't be that bad, can it?" Risa asked curiously.

"It is! The director, Kawa-senpai, she's crazy. I have to play a _girl_ again."

Riku touched her lip with her index finger musingly. "Well you've done it before. You ought to be just a _little_ bit used to a skirt by now."

Daisuke barely stopped himself from wailing and dying right there on the sidewalk. Shoving his face into his hands miserably, he mumbled something inaudible and incoherent, causing his three companions to lean in closer to hear him.

"What was that, Niwa?"

Daisuke looked up at the voice, and found himself nose-to-nose with a curious Riku. A few days ago, he would have blushed madly and transformed into a walking, squeaking tomato, and he would have been reduced to a stuttering puddle of mush that couldn't string a single sentence together. But now… This seemed to be it. This was the test that fate had cast to him; a test that would show him that he could let everyone go, and that he was ready for the moment when he would run in Satoshi arms, and share a mutual kiss, and then have hot, rabid –

Staring time. Yes.

Daisuke did not blush, and he did not turn into a tomato; nor did he melt into a pile of incoherent mush. He no longer needed to. He could let her go. He had passed the test.

"We couldn't quite hear you behind your hands," Riku said playfully, poking his palm.

Daisuke smiled once again, finding a mask of happiness pulled over his contemplating features. Funny… He had never had to do that before…

Takeshi stared up at the sky as everyone straightened up again. "Yeah, what'd'you say? I couldn't hear one word of what you were mumbling."

The smile quickly slid off Daisuke's face and he turned blue. "The skirt……"

"Yes, yes?"

"Its…short………"

Takeshi made a face. He, too, seemed horrified at the idea of a short skirt (on a guy, of course). But the Harada twins were used to short skirts. They wore them every day to school, for Pete's sake! Therefore, they were unimpressed.

"Maybe you're just overreacting," Riku reasoned. "Just how short is it?"

Daisuke lowered his hand to about four inches above mid-thigh. It was Riku's turn to pull a face. Even she could not bear to voluntarily wear such a short skirt.

Risa flicked out her wrist nonchalantly. "Still, it's not that bad," she huffed, for she probably had some skirts of a similar nature in her own vast closet.

Takeshi's horrified face grew, and he stared fixatedly down at where Daisuke's hand was. "It…it's so…_short_," he sniffed pathetically.

Daisuke nodded and pulled the hand away to brush a stray lock of hair away from his face dramatically. "It's too short. …Saehara, they've taken away my manhood!"

Risa and Riku giggled madly at this splay of theatrical drama whilst Takeshi's eyes widened to the size of saucers. His jaw dropped, and he blinked those saucers several times. The reporter slung his arm around Daisuke's neck in panic, cupped his ear to stop anyone from overhearing him, and urgently whispered, "How could they! …Is it in a jar?"

Daisuke rotated his neck to gawk at Takeshi. "N-nani?" Surely Takeshi wasn't talking about what he thought he was talking about…

"A jar, a jar, Niwa. They didn't just chuck it, did they? Did you get to keep it?" Takeshi gasped, and his eyes magnified to an unimaginable size. "Did it hurt? Aie, baka, of course it hurt!" He looked about ready to cry.

"Saehara, Saehara!" Daisuke shrugged Takeshi's arm off and raised his hands up in defense. "What ever you're thinking, it's not like that. Of course they didn't…ah…cut it off."

Takeshi blinked once again. "They didn't?" he asked pitifully with the air of a pathetic puppy.

Daisuke bonked him on the head for good measure. "Of course they didn't!"

The twins giggled. They seemed to have figured out what the two boys were talking about.

"But then again… They might as well have…"

"Why, Niwa?" Risa questioned.

Daisuke stared at her and blushed brightly. He really shouldn't be telling the girls the things that went on with his body… "Ah… No reason."

"Yes, there's a reason!" Risa insisted.

"Aw! C'mon, Niwa, tell us!" Riku pleaded.

"Yeah." Takeshi changed the pitched of his voice until it was sickeningly high. "Tell us, tell us, Niwa!" He smirked in Daisuke's direction, paying no attention to the glare on the redhead's face.

"Ah…well…"

"Spit it out, Niwa! We're your friends, we won't think you're a freak."

Daisuke dropped his head. "Fine. But Harada-futago-san, if you get extremely disturbed, it's not my problem."

"Hey, what about me?"

"You're always disturbed. Humph. Now anyway… Where do I start? …Well, since the skirt is so short, I have to wear super small, super tight, spandex shorts under. …And to stop everything from…moving out of place…when I jump around or something, I have to…" Daisuke's head sank lower. "…wrap my…eh…_hips_ with some fabric………" Hesitantly, the little thief raised his head a millimeter to see the looks on their faces.

"…"

Sighing, Daisuke's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Oh, alright! Go ahead and do it, I know you want to. Go ahead and laugh." At least Riku and Risa had the decency to stifle their giggles, but Takeshi went all out and began to howl out in hilarity, throwing his head back like some sort of hyena and sounding as though he was laughing into a microphone.

"Hey, hey," Daisuke said defensively, staring pointedly at Takeshi. "It's better than walking around with no covering under a skirt at all!"

Takeshi smirked. "Harada-nee would think otherwise, considering that it's you we're talking about here." He and Risa burst into another fit of laughing whilst Daisuke and Riku blushed brightly – Daisuke, because his friend was being very lewd; Riku, because it was probably true.

Daisuke rolled his eyes as he fought the blush away, knocking Takeshi on the head lightly. "Shut up. It's not like any of you are going to see it, anyway."

"Oh, oh, but on the contraire, Daisuke-_chaaaan_." Takeshi slung his arm around Daisuke's neck again, though this time, his mouth was expelling exclamations of a happy nature. "Of course we're going to your performance! The entire class is!"

Daisuke's head rapidly swiveled to eye both of the Harada sisters, and to his horror, they both smiled and nodded at him. "What?" he half-screamed. "You can't be serious! _Everyone?_"

Takeshi's grin only grew. "We can't miss a high school play starring two of our very own classmates! Saeki-sensei even made us fundraise the money for the thirty-two tickets. …Though Hiwatari's fangirls made most of it. They must really wanted to see him in action!"

"Yeah, he'll be in action all right…"

"What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing."

------

Daisuke banged into the Matsuda Junpei Memorial Hall, eyes dashing around the inside at a speed his feet could not manage. Finally, he spotted Satoshi and put those feet to work, rushing up to meet him. With the customary smile plastered on his face, he greeted the taller boy with a cheerful wave. "Good morning, Hiwatari-kun. I wanted to come here with you, but I guess I missed you."

"You were late." Satoshi wasn't even looking at Daisuke. His eyes were directed to any inch of space that didn't contain the redhead. It was very easy, too, for he was particularly small. He was petite. He was dainty. With the most beautiful scarlet eyes, and long, feminine legs, and a soft, supple body that would fit perfectly under the blunette's own…

_Shut up shut up shut up, _he sang to himself.

Daisuke grew sheepish. "I…entered exactly after the bell rang. Sensei made me stand outside for fifteen minutes before I could get here."

Usually, Satoshi would have commented snidely on his habitual lack of punctuality, but he merely nodded and gave a short, "Hn." His eyes darted to the stage, then back down at his script.

Daisuke blinked. "Um… Okay then. Well, Hiwatari-kun, Kawa-senpai isn't here yet. Do you think we can…?" He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Talk about yesterday?"

Satoshi knew this was coming. He knew they would eventually have to sort things out between them. He knew that it was an inescapable subject. He would have to face it, now or never.

"No, I don't think that's quite necessary."

…He wasn't _escaping_ the _inescapable_ subject! Oh, ho ho, no! He was just…trying his hardest to avoid it.

"Nani?" Daisuke looked truly surprised. "W…why not?"

"Because I know what you're going to say." Before Daisuke could speak, Satoshi continued on, his voice evenly calm. "And I agree. We should forget everything that happened yesterday and go on as if it never happened. I'm sorry that I pushed you into doing something you weren't comfortable with, and the moment that I walk away, I'll start the charade. You don't need to forgive me, or pity me, and I'd rather that you not yell at me, because that would mean that yesterday happened." He stared fixatedly at the word 'alone' in his script before hastily turning his attention to a ninth-grade volunteer carrying what seemed to be his weight in props.

"But…Hiwatari-kun…" Daisuke blinked. "That's not what I wanted to say."

"Was it something else?" Satoshi's eyes looked rather distant as he eyed a paint chipping on the wall, an avocado green patch showing amidst all the purple. "Was is that you hate me? Was it that you'd no longer like to be my…my friend?" He smiled ruefully to himself. "I suppose I deserve it then."

Daisuke frowned. This wasn't the Satoshi he knew. The Satoshi he knew spoke with an elegant confidence that made him shiver for unknown reasons. This Satoshi seemed…out of order. He was muttering negative things about himself as though Daisuke wasn't there beside him, a depressed air clouding his usually intimidating features.

"That's not it, Hiwatari-kun."

The rueful grin only widened a millimeter, and Daisuke grew wary of the new Satoshi. "If you say so." Although his elegant confidence had made its return in those four syllables, it was the wrong kind of confidence. It seemed that he was quite insistent on being right about the schism of their friendship. Satoshi raised his icy blue eyes to the ceiling, as though the answer to life was written on its crumbling architecture. "I should be going now. Because the moment I leave, yesterday will only be some strange sort of fantasy we both happened to dream of, and will eventually be forgotten."

"Hiwatari-kun, wait!"

But Satoshi had already turned away from him, script rolled up in his fisted hand.  
But Satoshi had already begun walking forward, neck arched and chin held high.  
But Satoshi had already stopped listening, and would not begin again.

_Dai… I think you broke the Hikari._

Daisuke swallowed. _What should I do?_

There was no answer.

_Dark? Dar-_

"Niwa!" A sickly happy voice rang in his ears. "O-ha-you!" Arms wrapped themselves around his neck from behind and he stumbled before regaining his balance.

"…" Daisuke sighed. "Ohayou, Kawa-senpai."

If Ika detected the misery in her little drag queen's voice, she showed no signs of hearing it. "C'mon, Niwa! Time to practice! We've only got one week until opening night, and I want everything to be _perfect_." She giggled madly to herself and grabbed him by the scruff of his collar, dragging him over to and up the stage. "Now practice pages seven to twelve, scene eight, with Hiwatari. No need to change- now is the time to _practice_." There was an odd, obsessive glint in her eyes, as though _practice_ were the greatest thing on this earth. "And ACTION!" she shrieked.

Daisuke blinked. He hadn't opened his script yet, and Ika wasn't even off the stage.

"Who are you?" Satoshi started abruptly.

"Naa, naa, naa, Hiwatari!" Ika interrupted, waggling her index finger as she hopped off the stage and into her director's chair. "Less anger, will you? You're Takagi Heiji: happy and curious – not yourself: eh… I'm not going to start."

Satoshi rolled his eyes. "Who are you?" he repeated.

"Who am I?" Daisuke smirked. "I-"

"NAAA! Niwa!" Ika brandished her director-funnel-thing at him. "What's that in brackets right after your name?" she demanded.

Daisuke blinked down at his script with a slight blush as he replied, "Sexy voice."

"Exactly! Now use a sexy voice! Make it…eh…husky, and low – but girly! Can't forget girly! Heheheh… GO!"

Daisuke began again, inwardly trying to convince himself that he owned a 'husky, low, sexy, girly' voice. "Who am I?" Daisuke put up another smirk, hoping this attempt would satisfy Ika. "I am a shadow in the eternal darkness, a staff of thorns beneath a beautiful rose. I am hurt, above all things, that you do not know me. You have, after all, been trying to find me throughout the past few days." He let a suave, lazy smile spread across his lips, feeling as though it fit Dark's face more than his.

"Y-Yami no Dorobou?" Satoshi gasped shakily. But the shakiness in his voice was far from brilliant acting. In reality, Daisuke's attempt at a sexy, mysterious voice had done its job. He was personally surprised that such an erotic noise could come from such an innocent boy. But then again, there _were_ the pleasured moans of yesterday –

_Shut up shut up shut up_, he found himself singing again.

There would be no thoughts of yesterday. He had promised both himself and Daisuke that.

"Correct you are, dear detective. Now to whom do I own this pleasure?"

"To your own thieving ways, Dorobou-kun. Now give back whatever you've stolen from my clients, or I'll be forced to use _these_." Satoshi whipped out a pair of faux handcuffs dramatically, letting one cuff dangle off his index finger.

Daisuke gave off a girly giggle with strain, as though girly-giggling was a huge pressure to do (which it was, because no boy would voluntarily giggle like a girl). "Like I'd ever do that, dear Tantei-kun. Now you ought to show some manners while in my presence. I _am_ a-" Daisuke gagged. "-lady, after all. You don't go barging into a woman's special hideout and demanding her personal belongings."

"Personal belongings my ass," Satoshi retorted. "I'll show _you_ manners!" And without another word, he leapt forward and tackled Daisuke to the floor, expertly pinning him down as he towered above him on his knees.

Somewhere off the stage, Ika sighed loudly, though with admiration. "You know, I'll never stop wondering _why_ you're so good at that, Hiwatari. And I'll never know why _you_ never get hurt when he does it! Heeheehee…" She giggled playfully. "Is it because you do it often?"

Satoshi looked up at Ika penetratingly. "I work with the Azumano police force; I _should_ be able to do such petty things. And Niwa-kun, he's used to falling to the ground."

"Eek, Hiwatari, no need to use the Scary Face with me." Ika held her hands up in defense, sheepish smile plastered on her face. "Go on and continue! Just ignore me."

"S'not at easy as she thinks…" Daisuke muttered to himself before falling into character again. "Get off me!"

"I'm not getting off until you've given me what I want," Satoshi replied coldly.

Daisuke only responded to this coldness with another strained giggle. "You sound _dirty_," he replied, grinning impishly at the commander, while his own face flared up in red.

Satoshi tried to act flustered, tried being the key word. 'Flustered' was one of many expressional facets he often hid, and coaxing it out was troublesome work. "Shut up."

Daisuke's grin only grew and his eyes flashed mischievously. "Though, if I may say so myself, that's not a bad idea." And in the blink of an eye, he bucked his hips up against Satoshi's inner thighs and flipped them over so that their positions were reversed: he triumphantly over the other's form. He straddled the blunette's hips with his knees, his bottom seating on Satoshi's upper thighs and one palm resting on his quickly rising chest, effectively stopping him from sitting up.

Once again in the span of twenty-four hours, their eyes met, blue and red entangled in a dance of unreadable messages. Satoshi's chest rose and fell even more rapidly, evenly matching his racing heart. _Please… Stop looking at me._ But with both their eyes alit with a young, familiar magic, they were trapped in the memories of a wonderful, horrible, passionate, horrible yesterday. His learned mind must have found it amusing to repeat the Niwa's untimely escape from his clutches (though that phrase made Satoshi seem like some sort of Daisuke-clutching madman). _You're making me remember what I should forget._

_Don't you get it, Satoshi-sama?_ Krad smirked at his tamer from the back of said tamer's head. _He wants to make you suffer._

_No he doesn't, you idiot._

_Don't go insulting ore-sama, the only one who will ever love you._

Satoshi sighed, the aftermath of yesterday's tragic activities also trickling into a box labeled 'unpleasant memories that will never cease from being shoved into my face.' _Listen, Krad, yesterday was nothing. You know that I was…_ He didn't want to say vulnerable. Hiwatari Satoshi was never vulnerable. _Down._ He chose this particular word (ignoring the fact that it was lame) because it neither gave off the impression that he was weak, nor that he was feeling anything (for he had not said "feeling down").

Krad twirled a lock of long, golden hair that had managed to escape his…eh…hair scrunchie. _I love you, too,_ he murmured absently.

_Shut up,_ Satoshi ground out, remembering the words he had agreed to before passing out. _I don't love you. And I don't belong to you, either._

Krad seemed very interested in his hair, and he merely glanced through Satoshi's eyes at the flaming Daisuke before returning to their former subject. _This is his plan. He will make you suffer by constantly reminding you of his rejection, and then, when your guard is down, he will destroy you._

…_I doubt Niwa-kun is able to 'destroying' me._

_Oh, but it has already begun…_ Krad observed in what seemed to be a nonchalant manner, had Satoshi not been capable of deciphering many of the angel's hidden undertones.

Satoshi ignored this and continued to gaze into Daisuke's burning eyes. _He's so beautiful…_ he mused to himself, not caring whether Krad was listening or not. _I just want to…want to…_ He felt like grabbing him by the collar and smashing their lips together –

_Resist the temptation!_ The blonde all but bellowed. _Do you want to be made a fool of again? In front of all these people, no less?_

_No. _His voice was businesslike again, no longer dreamy at the thought of his crush. _No…_ Satoshi forced himself to snap out of it, but noticed that his lips were moist from subconsciously licking them.

"Get off me."

Daisuke's face continued to glow, but his voice was still in character. "But you have such lovely eyes…"

"What does that have anything to do with getting off me?" Satoshi demanded, struggling under Daisuke's weight (not that he minded; his role forced him to flounder around like this).

Daisuke's eyes raked over Satoshi's chest, finally stopping at his face. "Lean chest, sense of style…"

"What are you saying?"

Daisuke lowered his face to Satoshi's, not breaking eye contact. "Smooth skin, beautiful hair…" He dipped his nose into the juncture of Satoshi's neck, shivering slightly from embarrassment.

Satoshi's heart began to beat again, close to the point of exploding. He felt foolish for growing so excited at this show of faux affection. This was all in the fucking _script_ for god's sake. But Daisuke was just so close…so warm…so irresistible… The redhead's breath was making hot layers on the skin of his neck, and a pleasant shiver ran through his body. Satoshi felt at ease with the little thief above him, and his mind was in such a haze of bliss that he wouldn't mind reliving yesterday, despite horrible memories.

_I don't care if he hates me…_

_Satoshi-sama, don't you dare finish that thought!_ Krad ordered.

…_I still love him._

Satoshi's hazy, gratified mind paid no attention to his other's ongoing protests. He felt like flipping Daisuke over and ravaging him and touching his special boy parts –

"I can't do it!" Daisuke floundered up off his friend and stumbled to his feet, prominent red blush still on his face. "I can't do it, I can't do it, I can't do it!" he half-yelled, glaring at the director.

Ika giggled and the crowd of girls that had gathered behind her sometime during the two boys' rehearsal began to murmur things about how cute shounen-ai was and how they regretted ever putting Daisuke in a skirt and wig. "Can't do what?" the senior director asked absently, as though she couldn't understand Daisuke's angst.

"I can't…" Daisuke pulled his script out from his back pocket and brandished it at Ika to emphasize his point. "I can't… I can't suck on Hiwatari-kun's neck!"

The gaggle of yaoi fans giggled and burst into another fit of shounen-ai worshipping.

"You're _not_ sucking on 'Hiwatari-kun's' neck," Ika reasoned. "You're sucking on _Takagi Heiji's_ neck!"

"…" Daisuke rolled his eyes at her. "It's all Hiwatari-kun in the end, Kawa-senpai. And he's my friend, and I refuse to suck on his neck!"

Ika sighed in defeat. "Giant baby…" she muttered to herself.

"Hey, I'd like to see you-"

"_Any_way," Ika interrupted, whipping a stray lock of hair from her eyes, "I think you'll just have to live with it."

"But, Kawa-senpai, I-"

"Ahem." Everyone turned to look at Satoshi, forgetting that he was even there (for he had been lying on the ground silent for the past few minutes). He had stood up, brushed himself off, and looked mighty impatient at the bickering. "Why don't we jus pretend?"

Ika arched an eyebrow. "And just how exactly are you supposed to do that?"

"You know…" Satoshi motioned to Daisuke, then back to himself.

Ika's brow rose until it was in dire danger of disappearing into her hairline. "No, Hiwatari-kun, I don't know. Please-" There was a smirk on her face, one that showed the commander that she knew exactly what he meant. "-enlighten us."

Satoshi resisted the urge to do something so pointless and immature as rolling his eyes. Instead, he stared pointedly at Ika and explained: "Instead of…sucking on my neck…Niwa-kun can just…go near it with his lips." _…What a lame explanation._

Ika snorted. "What?" She tittered at the failed explanation and winked at Satoshi. "What don't you show us?"

This time, Satoshi really did roll his eyes. "No."

"Come oooooon, Hiwatari. We don't know what you're talking about. You ought to give us an example."

The blunette gave off a strangled sort of noise before shrugging gracefully in defeat. "If you say so, Kawa-senpai. Niwa-kun, come here, please." He positioned both their bodies so that they were lined up before each other with their sides facing the watching senpais. With a shaking hand (shakieness hidden, of course), Satoshi lifted Daisuke's chin up so that their eyes met, allowing him full access to the redhead's smooth, pale skin. He hesitantly brought his lips to the little thief's neck, and at just a centimeter away from contact, he stopped. His lips hovered temptingly over the warmth of Daisuke's skin, and he could feel the aspiring artist's breath hitch below him.

_Probably disgusted with me… _Satoshi deadpanned depressively before quickly shaking off all the emo thoughts of rejection and whatnot. He gave out a slight sigh.

Daisuke froze and stopped breathing entirely. He tried to look anywhere but down, where a head of silky, platinum blue hair was currently situated. He could feel the heat from Satoshi's body pressed close to his, and he almost expelled a little choked moan when the blunette's warm breath spread out over the skin of his flushed neck.

"Does it look like I'm sucking on Niwa-kun's neck?" Satoshi questioned.

The artist's speech was slightly muffled, but Daisuke paid this no attention, for he was still frozen in space. Satoshi's breath had rolled out with his words, and it really tickled, making Daisuke inwardly squirm.

_Daarrrrk, _Daisuke whispered. _Help me… Oh my god, he's too close._

_But you like it,_ Dark pointed out.

_Of course I like it! I like him! But it's not gonna help anyone if I turn into you in the middle of rehearsal._

"I don't know; your head's blocking the way."

"Exactly."

Daisuke let out an involuntary shiver as another wave of hot breath rolled over his neck.

"If Niwa-kun were to suck on my neck, his head would just block the way. If he did what I'm doing, and just let his lips hover over my neck, then it would look the same as the real thing," Satoshi explained, causing Daisuke to quiver again.

_Sljkjsgafhjk! Does he have to keep talking?_

_Just grab him by the neck and redirect those lips somewhere friendlier – if you know what I mean._ Dark winked and mentally nudged inner Daisuke flirtatiously.

Daisuke turned red and mumbled something incoherent, which caused Dark to sputter loudly and try to block out his eyes and ears. _Agh! Dai! Not that friendly! Stop the images! Aggghhhhh!_

"And if I dip my head like so-" Satoshi bobbed his head up and down, starting from the middle of Daisuke's neck to the patch of pale skin under his left ear. "-it looks even more convincing, no?"

Ika sighed, partially throwing her hands up in defeat. "Fine, fine, Hiwatari!" She donned a disgruntled expression and shot Satoshi (NOOO! HOW COULD SHE?) with an evil look (…Oh, I see…). "If Niwa's not man enough to suck on another boy's neck, then he can fake it, like you!"

Satoshi pulled away (to which the inner Daisuke mewled sadly at the loss of semi-contact) and smirked triumphantly at Ika whilst Daisuke blinked at her oddly.

"What's so man about-"

"Continuing _on_," Ika interrupted loudly. The disgruntled expression slid off her face, instead replaced with a familiar look that downright scared Daisuke: her insane, play-loving, practice-enforcing, ninth-grader-dooming smile. "ACTION!" she shrieked happily, squealing to herself.

------

Sad to say, the rest of the week (filled with _practice_!) was not as eventful, though still filled with horror. There were many rehearsals, many last-minute costume changes, and many complications.

And of course, there were many attempts on Daisuke's part to confront Satoshi.

But Satoshi was a brilliant actor, completely worthy of the role of Takagi Heiji, high school PI. He seemed to disappear in a flourish of style and elegance whenever Daisuke approached him, and when the little thief did manage to corner him, he feigned disinterest in everything the redhead had popped up to say. He was smooth, he was nonchalant, and he was using these attributes against his poor, mislead crush.

Needless to say, Daisuke _was_ crushed. He couldn't understand _why_ Satoshi didn't want to hear him out. Sure, he had somewhat rejected him and ran away from him in a hurry that would make it seem as though he was scared of him, but… Ah… Well, yes, he understood why Satoshi didn't want to hear him out, but that didn't stop him from obliviously trying to break down the emotionless blockades the commander had set up for him, in hopes of confessing his love once and for all and riding off into the sunset like a sappily romantic couple would.

Both boys were suffering, inwardly angsting in the shadows of their supposedly unrequited love. Both wanted to make it all better, but one feared rejection, and the other was pushed away.

Daisuke was the other, and he swore to himself that he would make it all better.

"Niwa, quick, quick, I can see your hair sticking out of the wig! C'mere and let me fix it!"

Daisuke jumped and turned, hurrying to the teen male who had called him. "Aa, senpai."

But this was not the time, unfortunately. Oh no, no. It _was_ the time, however, for Daisuke to prance around in a skirt, a wig, and heels and do semi-naughty things with the boy that he loved. It was a dream come true for a homosexual transvestite, but he wasn't the latter (and was only the former for Satoshi). He hated the girly ensemble and wasn't even sure if the boy he loved returned his feelings.

"Niwa, Niwa, Niwa!" Ika squealed and glomped Daisuke from behind, once his hair was fixed, of course. "I'm so excited!" She then turned him around, hands on his shoulders, and glared at him. Her emotions were very much like Emiko and Towa-chan's: always shifting. "You'd better not screw this up, boy. This is my last year at Azumano High, and this play is supposed to get me into a great university out of town." With a bubbly giggle, she flicked his nose playfully. "Hey, hey, come with me!" And without another word, she steered him to the curtains and pushed a handful of the thick fabric aside for their heads to fit through. "Full house, Niwa!" She squealed excitedly and hugged herself. "Full house!"

"Wow." Daisuke blinked owlishly at the audience, suddenly fearful of their presences. There were too many of them. All of the seats had been taken, and even more teens were filing in through the three sets of double doors, taking places by the wall. Some had even brought folding chairs, as though expecting such a large crowd.

"Oh look!" She motioned to a large patch of teens dressed in identical maroon and white uniforms. "Your little school chums are here!"

Daisuke glanced at her indignantly at the comment about 'little school chums' before turning to where she had gestured. Sure enough, there sat his class, clad in their uniforms. Apparently, Saeki-sensei had ordered them all to wear them, so that he wouldn't lose track of the little troublemakers.

Daisuke waved at the four chairs nearest to him, or rather, the people seated in them: Masahiro, Takeshi, Riku, and Risa. Masahiro blinked at him in confusion while Takeshi stared and drooled. Riku and Risa mirrored each other's reactions, waggling their fingers hesitantly in greeting. They didn't seem to recognize him, but that was understandable- he _was_ after all, dressed as a girl.

"Oh, look, it's Miyuki and Yuko! Ah hah hah hah hah… Those bitches actually came to my play! TAKE THAT, SUCKAS!" Ika giggled malevolently. "Ooooh, Mom's here too! Is that Masato-senpai? Gosh, I thought he went to college in Hokkaido! Wow, this crowd brings back memories." She smiled to herself. "Looks like those posters we put up to publicize the play really did their job!"

"Posters?" Daisuke asked clueless.

Ika arched an eyebrow at him. "Yes. They've been everywhere on school grounds for three weeks, advertising the play. There's one over there."

Daisuke followed her gaze and spotted a large, eye-catching poster plastered to the wall of the hall. It was a deep, royal purple in color, with bright golden writing that spelled out 'Tribulation Within' in large, artistic type. 'A story of tragic pasts, new beginnings, wild goose chases, and love at first sight' was splashed under the play's title in the same fancy writing, but in a smaller size. Two cosplay figures, Daisuke and Satoshi, were smack dab in the middle of the poster, each with their own spotlight shining over them. The two beams of light contrasted against the dark, lightless room they had taken the photo in, centering all focus solely on them.

Daisuke cringed when he saw what was written at the bottom of the placard. 'Starring two gorgeous kouhai from Azumano Middle School: Niwa Daisuke and Hiwatari Satoshi. And Niwa's dressing up as a girl! COME WATCH, 'CAUSE HE'S SO CUTE!'

"Kawa-senpai, what's _that_ at the bottom of the sign?" he exclaimed in horror.

Ika grinned impishly. "Well it's true, isn't it?" She sighed blissfully to herself. "Ah, I guess it worked! The entire Gay Club is here!"

Daisuke stared at her with wide eyes. "Your high school has a Gay Club?" he asked incredulously.

"It's formally called the Group for the Sexually Confused, but whatever…"

Daisuke shook his head to himself at the thought. High schoolers were just _too_ strange.

"Ika-san, five minutes to eight! It's nearly show time."

Ika jumped and gasped loudly. "Oh my gosh, _really_?" She tugged Daisuke away from the curtain and pushed him to the side of the stage. "Niwa, are you ready?"

"Er… As ready as I'll ever be."

"Good enough. Now break a leg!" She patted him on the head as though he were a puppy and smiled at him encouragingly.

"Eh… Thanks."

"Everyone, everyone, get ready! We're starting soon!"

_**Lights.**_

The lights behind the curtain dimmed all around Daisuke until he was illuminated under only a small beam of light.

_**Camera.**_

There were certainly no professional cameras, but the audience had their own.

_**Action.**_

And on the other side of the curtains, the occupants of the Matsuda Junpei Memorial Hall gasped in awe and surprise as the entire enclosure turned pitch black.

------

**Killah:** Eh… I was wrong. nn;; Looks like this is gonna be THREE CHAPTERS. /gasp/ I typed up this chapter, intending for it to be a little happening between the makeout session and the play, but it turned out way longer than expected… Whoops? It's just that I hadn't even started writing the play up, and if I were to make you all wait, you'd skewer me. :D Besides, this chapter's long enough for now…right?

I know it's just an uninteresting filler chapter, but please bear with me. x.X There were some parts with information in it, like Daisuke finally letting Riku go, and that 'seductive thief protocol' from last chapter was Daisuke sucking on Satoshi's neck, but… /sigh/ At least there was some… SatoxDai action! …Almost. …Kind of. …Whatever. XD

**Next Chapter:** The play is performed (no, I'm not lying this time xD) and there will be SATOXDAI ACTION TO THE MAX! WH0000000T! xDDD


	3. Molestation Is Dai's Middle Name

**Title: **Tribulation Within**  
Pairing: **Satoshi/Daisuke

**Summary: **(SatoshiDaisuke) A new play debuts, a steamy kiss ensues, love is snubbed, feelings are uncovered, Satoshi avoids confrontation, and Daisuke just can't wait to confess his love. Thus, the drama unfolds – all of it on stage, but not in the script.

I changed the summary. XD I didn't like the first one… But the new one kinda sucks too… Tell me which on you like better, and I'll change it (or keep it, whatever).

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own. /mushroom sigh/

**Japanese Vocabulary  
**Bakayarou: bastard  
Aniki: older brother  
Noh: traditional Japanese theater  
Yukata: informal summer kimono (I think it's for guys…)

_The play is in italics.  
**Tamer-Angel conversations are in bolded italics.  
**_Anything not pertaining to the play – like Dai and Sato veering completely off the script XD – is in normal mode.

For the most part, I will refer to Satoshi and Daisuke as just Satoshi and Daisuke. It'll be like a SatoDai story within a SatoDai story, so **double the SatoDai-ness!** Everyone else will be referred to by their stage names. **Keep in mind, I will be using the word 'he' for everything Daisuke does.** But he is STILL dressed as a girl. So he's pretending to be a she, but she is called a he. XD

**But sometimes I'll be saying 'Yami no Dorobou' or 'girl' and be using female pronouns, so yeah…** You're all smart people (I'll assume n.n), you'll understand what's going on. XD Oh, and all ------'s mean a **scene change**, meaning the curtains are being closed.

And one more thing – /dodges boots and popcorn thrown by readers for delaying them from the start of the chapter/ – I'm overjoyed by all your enthusiastic reviews! ./cries/ I LOVE YOU ALL! And a big thanks to **Pocky Whore**. Omigod, her review was so fricken long and sweet and I hyperventilated when I read it and couldn't stop giggling to myself and it makes me type run-on sentences. xD

------

_It was the dead of night, and not a soul in the entire city was stirring. A seamless black painted the skies, a palette of pure darkness uninterrupted by the customary white specks of evening stars. Only the moon reigned, its bright beams of white light illuminating the earth below. A single silhouette stood out against the moon's brilliant glow, poised rigidly atop a three-story building, with long, dark tresses that whipped up in the wind._

_A gray cloud drifted lazily to the left, cloaking the moon behind its foggy veils. By the time it had moved, the moon had changed its angle, and its light was directed on the figure's face._

Daisuke had to keep his itching fingers clasped securely together to restrain himself from tugging his skirt down and resisted the urge to glow scarlet when he heard the comments being thrown from the crowd. Many of the admiring, love struck remarks came from the mouths of male teens, who either hadn't bothered to read the posters in order to realize that the darkly clad 'girl' before them was a guy, or perhaps belonged to the Group for the Sexually Confused.

Daisuke let his eyes quickly flit over to the section filled with his classmates, where all of them were staring slack-jawed at him. At least Takeshi had stopped drooling…

_Scruffy ebony bangs framed a pale face, contrasting against the rather childish cherry red eyes the silhouette owned. The rest of the little gray cloud wafted who-knows-where, and the moon's light only shone brighter, revealing inch-by-inch the rest of the figure's body. With a slender hourglass shape _(with plenty of sand at the top of the hourglass, thanks to the costume designers and their talent for stuffing bras) _and long, slim legs, it was obvious that the figure was a girl, sixteen at the most._

_The young woman disconnected her clasped hands and pulled out a garnet-colored rose that seemed to glow with an ethereal light from one of the many folds of her dark ensemble. Two even rows of pearly white teeth glinted in the dim lightly, revealing a rather feral grin as the set of cranberry eyes gazed fondly at the flower._

_However, in less than a minute, the rose lay forgotten on the cement ground of the building the figure was situated on. It seemed that her attention had been snagged, much like a straggly piece of thread on a protuberant nail, on a new happening that was occurring only several blocks back. The girl turned to watch the spectacle behind her, observing another rather tall building with smug satisfaction. _

_The museum._

_An entire row of windows on the fourth floor lit up with an artificial, yellowish light and loud, disruptive noises erupted from the building, though muffled and incoherent to the faraway ear. Out of the corner of her eye, the girl was pleased to see the familiar red and blue flashing of police vehicles, which of course came with the complimentary shrieking of sirens that was quite an irksome annoyance to sensitive ears._

_Again, the figure's attention was averted, this time to an off-white helicopter hovering harmlessly in the air. It seemed innocent enough, but suddenly, without warning, a white spotlight beamed its way down to earth, illuminating large circles of sidewalk/building/tree/hobo with its brightness._

_The beam began its journey to the scene of unfolding drama, rotating in large circles as it pressed on. The girl, having no intention of being caught loitering – on a roof of all suspicious places – swiftly shouldered the straps of some inconspicuous bag so to secure it more safely. With one last glance back at the tall building, which was bathed in the lights of camera crews and flying helicopters, she hopped off the roof and onto another building closer to ground level._

_She paid her load great attention, careful to keep a supporting hand beneath her bag so to prevent any sudden dropping. She couldn't risk letting anything happen to her newly acquired possession, now could she?_

_Snickering softly to herself, she jumped once more, this time into a dark alley, where she melted into the black shadows and disappeared from ignorant, slumbering eyes._

_The next morning, the humble citizens of Tokyo would awake to their usual cup of joe and morning papers, where one key message will be splashed across the headlines: _**The Dark Thief Strikes Again! Yami no Dorobou is on the Prowl.**

------

Satoshi fixed his glasses for what seemed like the tenth time that night. He pressed them painfully into the flesh above his nose, cursing his costume designer for damning him with this pair of lens. They were a bit too large, and continued to fall down the bridge of his nose repetitively. Several fan girls had told him that he looked quite 'irresistible' whenever he 'did that bishie eyeglass thing,' but he thought nothing of it.

In fact, that 'bishie eyeglass thing' – which of course, was pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one finger on either lens – was quite an annoyance. He did not understand why girls found that 'irresistible…'

But back to more important manners: the play (not that in was of high importance on Satoshi's priority list). Several senpais were running around the stage, concealed by the royal gold curtains, trying to get some last minute props in place.

Satoshi brushed a lock of artificial silver hair from his face and secured his glasses once more, eyes twitching. He leaned nonchalantly against a light post (also artificial) and cleared his mind of all distractions. Tipping the brim of his baseball cap over his left eye, he let his eyelids close and tried not to remember the little mishap that had happened on stage just a few moments ago. Long story short, there was Daisuke, his short skirt, his unending clumsiness, the floor, straddling, and many babbled apologies.

Satoshi felt a wave of heat roll over his pale cheeks and tried to quash all visuals, no matter how gratifying they were. He distracted himself from all dirty thoughts, crossed his arms, and then uncrossed them again as whispers broke out in the crowd, seeping through the thick fibers of the curtain.

That certainly forced him to put his act together. The hasty gesturing of a well-manicured hand kind of helped too… Along with Ika hissing: "Hiwatari! Get your ass in gear! 5-4-3-2…1 –––"

"_I can't do it, Katou," Satoshi decided, crossing his arms unfalteringly. He shifted his position on the light post he was leaning against and transferred the weight on his left foot onto his right._

"_What do you mean you can't do it? I've seen you in action! It'll be a cinch." Katou dragged his friend away from the pole and to a nearby bench, where he forced him onto his bottom. "Pays well, too." He plopped himself down beside Satoshi, staring him in the face._

"_Let me rephrase that: I don't _want_ to do it." Satoshi looked away from Katou's scrutinizing gaze and pulled at his hat, a strange little habit he had picked up whilst roughing it as a private investigator._

_Katou exploded. "What?" He grabbed a hold of Satoshi and shook him madly, causing his glasses to bounce around and end up half on, half off his face. "You've broken my heart, you cold bakayarou!" Then he broke down and wept pitifully on the hoary-haired boy's shoulder._

_Satoshi froze, eyes widening at the displays of insanity. "Get a hold of yourself, man!" he shrieked, pushing Katou off him as though he had the cooties. "I'll do it, I'll do it!"_

"_YESSSHHH! That's SCHWEET! Thanyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!" Katou pumped his fist into the air and would have started jumping around the park if several passersby hadn't been milling around, ready to stare horrifically at him if he even tried. "Yes…yes… This is great… Heheheheh…" The russet-haired teen laughed evilly to himself, tenting his fingers together like the evil mastermind he was. "Once and for all, I will catch the notorious criminal thief who has been plaguing the humble town of Tokyo with mass robberies of ghastly proportions for too long!"_

_Satoshi eyed Katou, rather concerned for his mental companion. "Aren't I the one who's gonna be doing the catching?" he pointed out._

_Katou stopped his ranting. "Well yes, but I get the credit for employing you! I can see the headlines now--"_

_Satoshi rolled his eyes. "Maybe I _don't_ want to do this now…" he thought aloud, baiting his eager comrade._

_With an ecstatic (and slightly mad) grin on his faze and both hands up in the air to illustrate the making of a headline, Katou froze. The image was quite comical. "Yes…" He lowered his arms and folded them primly in his lap, looking like a kicked puppy. "The headlines… 'Teen Detective Takagi Heiji catches Yami no Dorobou.' That's what I meant…of course…"_

_Satoshi chuckled to himself. "Whatever, Katou. It doesn't matter to me. You're such a loser." He clapped the brunette on the back jokingly as Katou's eyes sparkled happily. "I'll let you have the publicity."_

"_Heeheeheeheehee……… Yaaayyy!"_

_Satoshi sighed. "Okay, fine. Now…back to business. What is it exactly that you want me to do again?"_

"_You're supposed to _catch Yami no Dorobou_!" Katou responded, rolling his eyes exasperatedly, as though catching the notorious thief was the most obvious and easiest thing to do._

_Satoshi glared at him. "I know that, but how?"_

_Katou shrugged and leaned against the back of the park bench. "Hell if I know- you're the great investigator here."_

_Satoshi groaned in defeat and mimicked his friend's actions, folding his hands behind his head in the shape of a butterfly. "You could have at least given me _something_ to work with…" he sighed, staring up at the sky._

"_Well…" Katou's voice was deviously low and laced with something suspicious, causing Satoshi to turn an inquiring head. "I _do_ have a little info that could prove to be useful on your woman-hunt…" He trailed off slyly as his smug grin widened, inwardly expecting his friend to topple over in surprise._

…_And topple over, Satoshi did. By the time he had regained his composure, his eyes were widened in shock and his face was inches away from Katou's. "Are you serious?" He choked on his own surprise and tried to placate his erratic breathing. "Are you SERIOUS?" he repeated wildly. "The great Yami no Dorobou is a GIRL?"_

_Katou hurriedly covered Satoshi's mouth with both hands, effectively shutting him up. "Hey, watch it, Takagi. There's a reason why we have to keep this quiet. _I'm _not even supposed to know this."_

_Satoshi shot him a look. "Then how do you?"_

"…_I swiped one of my aniki's files." Katou ignored the incredulous stare he was receiving and stared absently into space. "Wasn't very hard, either. He may be the big man in charge of the Dark Thief case, but he's a downright slob. I took it from the clutter of his home office."_

"_Pretty proud of yourself, aren't you?" Satoshi commented blandly._

_Katou nodded, not sensing the sarcasm, and pulled a manila folder out from the inner pocket of his jacket. "Here, sift through this." He handed the folder to Satoshi and began to tick off his fingers. "The first few pages are newspaper articles concerning our favorite thief, followed by a section of top secret police reports on her, and the rest of it is…"_

"_Pictures of Yami no Dorobou!" Satoshi exclaimed excitedly, pulling several photos out of the folder and holding them in the air._

"_That's right! Unreleased to the public, taken by a museum camera Yami no Dorobou hadn't managed to take down."_

_Satoshi shuffled a couple of pictures, eyeing them meticulously. "How could she miss this one camera when she managed to disconnect every other camera in the museum? And she got past all the lasers and alarms without trouble, too."_

"_We're under the impression that Yami no Dorobou intentionally left the camera there. Damn arrogant girl...thinks she's so great... Seems like she wants Japan to know of her little escapades, build up a reputation, y'know? That's why she leaves her calling card." Katou unearthed a small credit card-sized slip of paper from the pocket of his jeans, one that Satoshi immediately recognized. They displayed it every night on the news whenever some priceless work of art was stolen by Yami no Dorobou; a pressed rose glued to the little card and accompanied by the sweet message: "Took it. -Yami no Dorobou." Blunt yes, but it made its point._

"_Hn, I'll bet," Satoshi replied distractedly, still engrossed in the pictures._

Obviously, the audience couldn't see what the contents of the pictures were, but it was implied that the girl in the pictures (Yami no Dorobou) was the girl who had made her appearance at the beginning of the play (Dai-chan!). If it weren't that obvious, then the person who didn't understand the subject of the images was an idiot. x) Oh joy.

"_Now that you know what she looks like," Katou continued, twirling the card between his index and middle finger, "maybe you can-"_

"_Hey, but why aren't the authorities telling the public the gender of Yami no Dorobou?" Satoshi interrupted, leafing past the photos and back to the police files. "All the newspaper articles call her Yami no Dorobou, without any pronouns. It's pretty annoying, reading the repetitive name. Throw in an 'it,' I don't care, just stop with the 'Yami no Dorobou this,' 'Yami no Dorobou that.'" He rolled his eyes._

_Katou patted his back sympathetically, but he frankly didn't care. Thus, he answered short and to the point. "Aniki's superior has this thing against women in power. He thinks that if the publics gets wind of Yami no Dorobou, the great, undetectable thief of our time, being a girl, then women'll try to...usurp him...or something. Dunno why, though." He ran a hand through his wispy brown hair and chuckled. "The wife's got him whipped already."_

_Satoshi grunted, eyes quickly scanning the records on a priceless Peruvian vase – imported from an institute in Peru and donated to the Bunkamura Museum of Art – that was stolen last night._

"_So now you can help us!" Katou grinned. "Use your great detective skills to catch that no-good thief!"_

"_All right then!" Satoshi couldn't help but be pumped up by his friend's enthusiasm. "You're right! We'll catch this thief. We'll stop her from stealing more pieces of art. We. Will. PREVAIL!"_

"…" _Katou blinked. "Eh…yeah. …Weirdo."_

Satoshi wholeheartedly agreed and wanted to shoot the scriptwriter for making him yell out such a stupid thing.

------

_It was the dead of night once again, and Yami no Dorobou found herself in the middle of the Nihon Mingeikan Art Museum, a museum specializing in Japanese folk crafts and pieces of art relating to Japanese folklore._

_Daisuke swiped a precious painting from its position on the wall, frame and all, chortling as he did so. It was a beautiful piece of art, and he spared several minutes to take in each breathtaking stroke with an admiring gaze. The subject of the painting was a pure, majestic angel with cropped hair that looked as soft as silk, while at the same time taking the color of refined steel. His eyes were soft with love, though shaped narrowly and colored a poisonous emerald green, as though he were more accustomed to glaring at people._

_Daisuke wasn't one for Japanese folklore, but if the tale this seraph was in were on tape, he'd watch it for the sole enjoyment of watching _him

_However, once Daisuke's attention was off the charming angel in his hands, he scoffed, unimpressed. As the great Yami no Dorobou, he was used to breaking into museums without any trouble, but this was just pathetic. This museum didn't have any lasers, or even a night guard to patrol its art-filled corridors. The owners were just begging to be robbed, and he never failed to disappoint._

_Scowling in the dark, Daisuke was aware of the attention he was receiving from a security camera in the corner in the corner of the room (the rest on that floor had been short circuited by some…divine force of nature…). Succumbing to the temptation of dropping the incognito act, he bounded up to it, leaped onto a nearby pedestal (making sure not to disrupt the craft atop it), and shoved his face at the lens, clutching the painting to his chest. He grinned widely, blew a raspberry at it, and made victorious, albeit stupid, faces at it. Hopefully, any officer on the graveyard shift would see him, decide to get off his lazy bum, and give good chase._

_A yellow light on the camera blinked cheerfully and the air all around Daisuke began to scream. Red sirens glowed on and off again in time with the alarms, bathing the black room in red._

_Not bothering to stifle the grin on his face, Daisuke detected the faint yells and banging of footsteps coming from a floor below, even with the boisterous shrieking of the alarms. He spit a wad of chewed gum into his palm and transferred it to the lens of the camera, spreading it out over the circular glass._

_It always felt good to escape from the cops undetected. If they knew which exit he had taken, it gave them a chance to pursue him. Sure, he could take them, but that would ruin his Thief of Darkness reputation that made it seem as though he could actually melt into the darkness to make his escapes. …Plus, if the Fuzz ever managed to tail him, they'd be boasting about it for months. Down with the Fuzz! Rebel against the Man, man! …Eh, carrying on ---_

_Daisuke reverently stashed his new treasure into his inconspicuous bag and hoisted it over his shoulder. After securing it to his back, he jumped off the pedestal and stood before a small display case pulled to the wall. The entire top part was made of glass, while the bottom was styled to look like a series of drawers._

_But they were not drawers, Daisuke knew. He ran his fingers under the ledge of the cabinet part of the case, feeling its rough wooden texture, until…_

_The drawers slid down without so much as a whine or creak, revealing a dark, empty space beneath the glass display. Behind it was a small, rectangular tunnel that had brought Daisuke to where he was at the moment. That same tunnel would bring him back._

_As the sound of yells and footsteps grew louder, Daisuke noiselessly scurried into the cramped opening, rolling the faux drawer faces up to a close, encasing him in darkness and the musty smell of dust._

_About a dozen policemen came running into the exhibit room, with guns and batons at the ready. They looked around wildly, scanning the room for any sign of movement. But they knew it was no use._

_Yami no Dorobou had disappeared._

_One officer sighed and signaled to the others. The alarms and sirens stopped, leaving them in a silent darkness until someone switched the lights on. And with that, the gang of cops fell into a weary pace of standard police work, rather miffed at the fact that Yami no Dorobou had managed to thwart them again. They set up yellow police tape around the scene of the crime, marked off the spot where the piece of art had been, and took the chewed gum in for questioning (it was impossible to tell whether of not they were unaware of the fact that it would not respond to them)._

_About forty-three minutes later _(though it was only about three minutes for the people watching in the audience)_, Satoshi came bursting into the exhibit, looking ruffled and windswept. "I came here as fast as I could!"_

_The man in charge of the museum's security, Commander Wakano, stepped up to him, jaw set in a scowl. "Takagi-san, it has been an hour since the alarms sounded. We expected you to come sooner. I don't know how you got your little hands If you are truly serious about this case, then I suggest you shape up."_

_Satoshi returned the scowl, muttering inaudibly about the fact that it was barely three quarters of an hour since the alarms had sounded. However, he stared at Wakano, the dislike evident on his face, and nodded. "I'll do that, Wakano-san." And with that, he turned from the taller man and began to skulk around the room, mentally taking note of everything- the ceiling, the angles of the shadows, the camera, any nearby pieces of art, and the little bit of wall covered by Yami no Dorobou's calling card._

_It was tacked onto the wall right where the stolen painting used to be, and the dry, pressed rose was staring at Satoshi, mocking him. Satoshi merely glared at it spitefully and continued to investigate the room._

_There was an air duct right above a glass display case that was pushed up against the wall, but Satoshi blatantly ignored it. He knew that Yami no Dorobou was too clever and complex to take such an obvious escape route out of the building. Even if he wanted to search the aerial passage, security was already all over it; they had a man in there crawling through the steel maze in search of the shrewd thief._

_Satoshi sighed and turned away from the air vent and glass case, continuing his search. What he didn't manage to spot was the curious pair of scarlet eyes peering out at him through the holes of a traditional Noh mask sitting upright between two others atop a purple lining in the display case. The eyes continued to follow his every movement interestedly for the duration of his investigation, glittering with mystery. This Noh mask, like its companions, had a head of deep black hair attached to its apex; but unlike its companions, the hair was shining stunningly, looking rich and healthy. Unlike its companions, the hair didn't look as though it came from a straggly horse's tail._

_Eventually, the police left the scene of the crime, pledging to come back tomorrow morning to handle all the media affairs and such. Time passed, and Satoshi, too, left. The glittering crimson eyes were left to their own devices, alone in the dimly lighted museum behind the Noh mask._

_A clock somewhere on another floor chimed forbiddingly, and the moment it hit 2:00, a hand shot out from beneath the velvet lining, blindly grasping the air until its nimble fingers managed to grope the mask. Said digits wrapped themselves around a hooked nose and pulled it off, revealing the beautiful, pale face of our favorite thief: Yami no Dorobou. Daisuke._

_Daisuke wriggled his head out of the hole he had created, placed the Noh mask back onto its spindly stand, placed the stand back onto the piece of cabinet he had cut out, and connected it back into its hole._

_Daisuke slipped out of the space beneath the glass display and back into the room he had just robbed. Standing in the middle of the exhibit, he stared at his treasure fondly, holding it out at an arm's length._

"_Who was that boy?" Daisuke wondered aloud to himself, turning his gaze to the ceiling in deep thought. "He looks a lot like the angel in my picture…"_

The audience had been given pamphlets containing things like the roles of people and contributions made by volunteers. On another page was a downsized picture of the painting Daisuke had stolen, drawn and painted by Daisuke himself and donated to the drama club as a prop. With this, the audience could see the uncanny resemblance between the angel in the painting and Satoshi, a.k.a. Takagi Heiji.

_Daisuke clutched the painting warmly, eyelids lined with cherry and kohl closing over ruby eyes. "He looks like _my_ angel." He sighed dreamily, a pensive smile curling his gloss-smeared lips._

_It was the dead of night once again, and Yami no Dorobou found herself in…fatuated._

------

_Throughout the course of the next week, Daisuke stole five more pieces of irreplaceable art. After each robbery (all five of them successful and without a single hitch), he would stash his new treasures into his bag and submerge himself into an undetectable hiding spot close to his escape route. From those spots, he would watch his living seraph from afar, admiring his flawless beauty and perceptive way of thinking._

_Sometimes, Daisuke would learn little things about the sleuth whilst hidden in the untraceable confines of his hideouts. For instance, on the first night, he had caught Satoshi's home office address and cell phone number. On his second day, he noticed little habits Satishi possessed, such as pulling the brim of his hat over his left eye, and flipping out his wallet and gazing at something inside it with a mixture of fondness and reverence after each failed search for any trace of Yami no Dorobou. On the third day, he figured out what that something inside the wallet was._

_Daisuke had overheard Katou – Satoshi's nosy, enthusiastic friend who had tagged along on an investigation (against the head of security's wishes) – talking to a young rookie cop in his late teens about Satoshi. He hadn't really been trying to listen in; they were right in flippin' front of him. He couldn't bloody well ask them to move so he could get a better view of his investigating angel…_

The senpais playing Katou and the rookie cop were currently backstage with a pair of microphones in hand. Speaking into said battery-operated instruments would project unto the audience the idea of a flashback, since the school couldn't afford any expensive machinery that would made the air around the stage all fuzzy and…flashbacky,

"_Hey you!" Katou called, referring to the cop. "Mamoru, was it?"_

_Mamoru grunted in affirmation. "Yep, that's me."_

"_Wanna go to that new club down the street after the investigation's over?"_

_Mamoru coughed uncomfortably. "Sorry… I'm not gay…"_

"_Neither am I!" Katou boomed. "We'll go pick up chicks!"_

_Another uncomfortable cough. "…Do I know you?"_

"_Nope!" was the cheerful response. "But I'm Katou Naoki, it's nice to meet you. So do you wanna come with me?"_

"_Uh… Didn't you come here with that gray-haired guy? Why don't you go with him?"_

"_Who? Takagi?" Katou made a 'pscht' noise and scoffed. "I'm never bringing him to a club again."_

"_Hm." Mamoru grunted again, though this time it was slightly distracted and accompanied by the rustling of plastic. He was obviously in the middle of some sort of work. "Why's that?"_

"_Eh, Takagi's a wet blanket. Sure, he brings in the girls, but all he ever does is reject them and sit there like a lump on a log."_

"_Hm. Why's that?" Mamoru repeated inattentively, sounding as though he didn't really care. More rustling sounded, followed by the dusting/clapping of his glove-clad hands._

"_Well, I shouldn't be telling you this – ("Then why are you?" Mamoru muttered.) – but Takagi's not into girls and dating and stuff. – ("Is he…?") – And _no_, he's not gay. Dude, stop asking me that. Anyway, Takagi's family was one of those old, traditional Japanese families. Kimonos, yukatas, tea ceremonies- y'know, the works. Well, Takagi's dad, a monk, set him up on an arranged marriage. Takagi wasn't into the whole traditional way of life, which explains why he wanted to be a police officer/detective, and he shunned the idea of being engaged to someone he didn't know. So on the day his and his fiancé's family were to meet, he didn't attend the rendezvous- blew it off, actually. But while he was gone, an arsonist set Takagi-san's temple on fire, and they all died. Takagi blames himself - though I dunno why - and now he won't date."_

_You could almost hear Mamoru raise an eyebrow inquisitively. "What does the death of his family have to do with not dating?"_

"_Takagi wanted to honor his family's wishes and old customs, because the last time he saw them, they were all on bad terms. So to follow their tradition, he agreed to the marriage and promised to be forever faithful to his fiancé."_

_Mamoru was silent for a moment. "But wasn't the fiancé in the fire?"_

_Katou made an affirmative noise. "Which is exactly why he doesn't date. His family wanted him to marry the fiancé, but she died, so he couldn't. So he did the next closest thing and swore off dating altogether, to honor their wishes."_

"_That's gotta suck," Mamoru commented wisely._

"_It sure does. I've tried to set him up millions of times, but as I've said before- he's just a lump on a log! He won't go on the dates, and when I bring him to clubs, he'd rather sit at the bar and 'make friends.'" Then Katou began to murmur incoherent things about being such an asexual idiot and whatnot._

"_Well," Mamoru interjected, concern lacing his voice, "I'm sure it's just a phase, and…"_

_Daisuke had tuned out the rest of their conversation, because the living emulation of his folklore painting had come into view, and he frankly didn't care much for the loud bigmouth and disinterested cop._

_But the data said bigmouth had spewed was quite informational. The thing inside the wallet was obviously a picture of his family (though why he always gazed at it after an investigation, Daisuke did not know; perhaps it was an honorable mannerism)._

_Something inside Daisuke bubbled angrily at the thought of his angel swearing off dating. That _seriously _sucked, in his opinion. Daisuke was a thief, and a stubborn one at that. He wanted to steal Satoshi away from civilization, and bring him home all for himself, like he did with the rest of his stolen art. Because, after all, the investigator _was_ a magnificent piece of art, what with his bright eyes, graceful figure, and affable countenance._

_So yes, Daisuke was pissed. He wanted Satoshi, gosh darn it!_

_But then again, there was no use whining about it, Daisuke decided. He _was _a thief, and he _would_ do as his mind had subconsciously planned. He would steal Satoshi._

_But of course, _meeting_ Satoshi face-to-face was his main concern at the moment… And that was why he had robbed yet another museum out of yet another beautiful piece of art._

_Daisuke leapt onto a canopy hanging in the air, having already found this hiding spot the first time he visited the museum as a civilian. The tarp was made of a thick, sturdy material, wouldn't swing an inch when weight was shifted upon it, and was naturally lumpy, so no one would suspect that he was hiding in it. He had deposited his bag (its contents being the ruby charm he had stolen) somewhere along his escape route sometime beforehand and was ready to focus his attention solely on his newest attraction._

_And focus, Daisuke did. He watched every movement Satoshi made: studying the architecture of the museum exhibit, jotting facts into his tiny notebook, tipping the brim of his hat, etc. He especially relished the times when Satoshi bent over to examine something low to the ground._

_The minutes ticked by, and the security guards and police officers on duty slowly trickled out the room's doors, having crammed a solid day's work into an hour and a half. Eventually, Satoshi was the only person left in the room, and the lights around him were shutting off one by one until the only sources of light were two flickering light bulbs, one over the door and one over the window-wall opposite the threshold._

_When Satoshi's hand slowly made the inevitable movement down to his pants pocket, Daisuke knew it was time to act. With poised grace and great precision, he hurdled down to the ground, landing several yards away from Satoshi's turned back._

_Satoshi's ears perked when he heard the distinct clacking of something hitting the marble floor. Behind him, somewhere, it was accompanied by the faint rustling of cloth. He stood still for a minute, the seconds ticking by as slowly as mechanically possible, hand still poised three inches away from his pocket. Unnerved by the many possibilities of things/people/monsters that could have appeared behind him, he slowly rotated his navel, his chest, and finally his neck, until he spotted…_

_Complete and utter darkness._

_Satoshi was positioned rather closely to the doors, where a light bulb was illuminating luminosity. The only other light in the exhibit was all the way across the room, a fair distance of about forty meters. This being said, it only made sense to realize that the entire middle of the enclosure was shrouded in blackness, thus stopping him from seeing anything farther than five feet in front of him._

_Satoshi heaved out a breath of relief, trying to convince himself that it was all a hallucination, all a trick his panicked mind had made up to spook him. There could be nothing in the darkness, contrary to those horror movies wherein all the most horrible monsters and evil people popped out at you. Wherein the main characters were all killed in a dark, seemingly empty room. Wherein innocent civilians clicked on an innocent light switch and found the bodies of many dead people in the dark._

_Gah. Scary thoughts, scary thoughts!_

_Satoshi shook them away, tugging sharply at his detective's hat. How silly of him to reminisce about such fictitious things like monsters and zombies and –_

_Footsteps slowly approached from the darkness, set at a steady, even pace. Click. Clack. Click. Clack._

_The clicking and clacking soon subsided, but Satoshi knew that _someone_ was there. The question was… Who?_

_The person shuffled a little bit forward, not letting the 'click clack' noise escape his/her feet. Finally, he/she stepped forward a little, yet still beyond the light's reach. The light shone out at a slight slant, revealing only the rounded toes of a pair of leather boots._

_Satoshi let out another sigh of relief, though he was wary. It was no monster, but what was some secretive prowler doing in the middle of a taped-off crime scene anyway? His eyes narrowed at the intruder. "Come out; stop hiding in the shadows."_

"_As you wish," chuckled a smooth voice from the darkness._

_Satoshi, anticipating the barrel of a gun to be pointed in his direction, did not expect a flower to be thrown at his feet- a rose, to be precise. He barely glanced at it before redirecting his attention to the darkness, where a slim figure was slowly emerging._

_Satoshi's narrowed eyes widened considerably. Before him was a girl _(of course, we all know it's a boy in drag /wink.)_, no older than he, clad in tight, shiny clothing the color of obsidian. Her tank top clung eagerly to her slim navel and buxom chest before disappearing beneath a layer of black denim and some sort of gray, flowing fabric that made up her short skirt. The glossy, black leather gloves and boots (stopping right above her elbows and knees) that adorned her arms and legs were complete with tiny ribbons on the sides and a customary shine._

_He compared his own clothes – a long-sleeved, button-up dress shirt that was loosely tucked into a pair of semi-tight russet pants, stylish mahogany suspenders, a formal red tie (the both of which earned many star-struck comments about him looking both sophisticated and sexy), black leather dress shoes, and of course, his brown, detective-styled hat – to hers and felt oddly underdressed for the occasion (for whatever occasion this happened to be)._

_Satoshi continued to blatantly stare at the girl (for he was a detective, and staring was what detectives did), focusing primarily on her eyes. They were a beautiful garnet color that shone with a hungry light, though the effect it had on her face was not unnerving; the look of hunger on her innocent face was as misplaced as a pair of fangs on a puppy dog. Her hair was long and dark, practically melting into the shadows of the exhibit room, and her pale skin seemed to glow ethereally._

_Letting out a slightly shuddering breath, Satoshi made eye contact with her and asked: "Who are you?"_

_Daisuke smirked mysteriously, eyes raking over his angel's form. Yes, meeting Satoshi face-to-face was the right decision. He let the silence drag on for dramatic purposes before answering the detective's question with a question. "Who am I?" His smirk grew alongside a pregnant pause. "I am a shadow in the eternal darkness. I am a staff of thorns beneath a beautiful rose." His lips curled mockingly, eyes crinkling in amusement. "I am hurt, above all things, that you do not know me. You have, after all, been trying to find me throughout the past few days." His eyes grew misty and he simply smiled idly at Satoshi's reaction._

_The sleuth's eyes were widened in shock, pupils dilated at the prospect of actually being confronted by his prey. He let an audible gasp escape his lips before letting out a shaky, "Y-Yami no Dorobou?"_

_Daisuke chuckled softly, looking down so that his bangs shielded his eyes. "Correct you are, dear detective. Now to whom do I owe this pleasure?"_

_Satoshi glared, the shock receding back into his nonchalant system. "To your own thieving ways, Dorobou-kun. Now give back whatever you've stolen from my clients (for everyone was his client, despite the fact that he was never formally employed by the museums), or I'll be forced to use these." He pulled out a pair of shiny silver handcuffs with dramatic flourish, having received them for no apparent reason from another museum guard on duty. "Just in case," the man had said._

_Daisuke lifted his head, claret eyes glittering with glee. He giggled rather girlishly, snapping his wrist in Satoshi's direction. "Like I'd ever do that, dear Tantei-kun," he replied smoothly, calling him by his occupation rather than his name (he didn't want him to think that he was a freakish stalker out to get him or something, now did he?). "Now you ought to show some manners while in my presence. I _am_ a lady, after all. You don't go barging into a woman's special hideout and demanding her personal belongings."_

_Satoshi growled. Special hideout? It was the flippin' museum Daisuke had robbed only several hours ago! "Personal belongings my ass," was his rejoinder. "I'll show _you_ manners!" He took a running leap and pounced on the unsuspecting thief _amidst the awed gasps and muffled giggled coming from the _audience. Gravity and the detective's weight _(or lack thereof, that unhealthy, bread-eating, anorexic bastard…)_ forced them both to land rather unceremoniously onto the cool marble tiles of the flooring. The hoary-haired one landed on top, pinning his opponent to the floor with his palms._

"_Get off me!" Daisuke snapped, struggling profusely._

"_I'm not getting off until you've given me what I want," Satoshi replied coldly, spinning the pair of handcuffs around the index finger of one hand while the other held Daisuke down by the neck._

_Daisuke giggled despite the hand on his neck. "You sound _dirty_," he commented, grinning at his angel's flustered reaction. He giggled again._

"_Shut up!" Satoshi rejoined hotly, looking anywhere but at his prey's mocking face. He, having never had a date before in his life, was uncomfortable with such talk._

"_Though, if I may say so myself, that's not a bad idea." Daisuke simpered smugly at Satoshi, and abruptly thrust his lower body into Satoshi's inner thighs. Using this to distract and unsteady his adversary, his hands shot out, grasping the detective's forearms, and he quickly threw the other's form off his. He kept hold his grasp on Satoshi's arms and rolled on top, efficiently switching their positions. _

_Daisuke's palm journeyed out and held down the sleuth's chest to prevent him from sitting up. While he made himself stable upon Satoshi's upper thighs, he touched his knees to the floor and straddled the blue-eyed one's slim waist._

"_Get off," Satoshi ordered frigidly, glaring at Daisuke threateningly._

"_But you have such lovely eyes…"_

Daisuke's eyes glazed over as they lingered on Satoshi's fallen form, giving Satoshi the impression that the redhead's mind was on something other than the script's instructions (briefly glance at clothing, body, etc; regain eye contact). He made a show of tucked a stray lock of hair back behind his ear, but Satoshi – who was under him and had the perfect view of everything he did – saw that he had bent the microphone connected to his ear away from his mouth.

Daisuke quickly spared a glance at the blunette's face before looking down again, as though enthralled by his rumpled white button-up shirt. "I love you, you know that?" he whispered thoughtfully, lips barely moving. He ignored Satoshi's shocked expression and sighed inaudibly. "I've been trying to tell you, but you haven't been listening. But here—" He grinned rather ruefully, but the shadows thrown by his flowing black wig shielded the audience from this facial expression. "Here, you can't run. You have to listen."

Satoshi nearly threw Daisuke off him, resisting the urge to throttle him. He wanted to hurt him, hurt him for hurting him. He wanted to yell at him, yell at him for being so stupid. Daisuke didn't love him, and he knew it. The idiot didn't have to lie to protect his feelings, he didn't have to take it this far, he didn't have to start 'caring' all of a sudden right in the middle of _the freaking **play**_.

Satoshi dared not to do anything rash to the boy above him, lest he be bitch slapped by Ika later for 'destroying' her play, so he settled for glaring at Daisuke instead. "Shut up," he hissed lowly, not having to relocate where his microphone was pointed; it had been pushed at an angle away from his mouth during his and Daisuke's position switch. "Now is not the time."

"When is the time?" Daisuke demanded softly through his teeth. "After the play, when you'll just ignore me again?"

"Niwa!" Satoshi snapped, leaving out the honorary. "Stop it."

Daisuke shot Satoshi a searching look before firmly inclining his head an inch. "For now, _Sato_-kun," he whispered, wholly enjoying another look of shock on Satoshi's face. "But by the end of tonight…" He trailed off.

And so, both boys fixed their microphones and the play continued on. If the audience had noticed their odd behavior, they hadn't shown it. Actually, a majority of them were still giggling about the fact that there was _straddling_ going on between two guys (even in one was dressed as a girl).

"_What does that have anything to do with getting off me?"_

Satoshi let out automatic responses without really listening to Daisuke. Each memorized line was organized in chronological order somewhere in his head, and after practicing this scene many, many times, even his subconscious knew when to say what. Because of this, he let it take over the performing and used his deliberate mind to mull over things.

"_Lean chest, sense of style…"_

What was Daisuke's problem? Was he that guilty about hurting his feelings? Did he pity him that much? Was he that incredibly brain dead? Couldn't he think of a better time to try talking to him?

"_What are you saying?"_

Satoshi didn't understand a single thing going on inside Daisuke's head. (Hey, neither do I. xD We'll just pretend that Dai-chan was feeling incredibly loving towards Sato-kun at that exact moment in time. /grin/)

_**Dark, can you go to sleep for a while?**_ Daisuke requested while Satoshi said his lines.

_**Why?**_ Dark questioned curiously.

_**I don't want to suddenly turn into you.**_

_**And why would that happen?**_

_**I'm gonna molest Hiwatari-kun, **_was the blithe, innocent reason.

_**Oh, okay,**_ was the equally blithe, innocent response. _**Have fun! Zzzzzzzz…**_

In fact, Satoshi couldn't even guess what insane thing Daisuke would do next. He _had_ been known to do dangerous things for people he sympathized with (one of these dangerous things being voluntarily eating Risa's cooking). Maybe he would jump off the school roof during lunch as penance for hurting his feelings… Such a fool.

"_Smooth skin, beautiful hair…"_

Satoshi's was abruptly pulled from his thoughts when a pair of soft lips pressed themselves against the skin of his neck.

_**Oh my GOD. **_Satoshi's head reeled back in shock as his mind began to process just what was going on. _**Is he kissing me?**_

------

**Killah:** And this is where I leave you, my friends. /happy grin/ Looks like this is **no longer a three-shot**. -.- This chapter's already longer than the first (which is longer than the second), and I still have a bunch more to write. So I decided to split it up into two parts. The next chapter will be the last. THIS I GUARANTEE! …Hopefully. XD Sorry bout this, guys… It's a spontaneous thing, ya'know?

And also, I didn't even bother to try destroying the horizontal scrollbar, unlike the prior two chapters (though those may still have 'em if you have a different browser/resolution than me). ...So even though it pisses me off, it's there. -.- Omg, I hate all horizontal scrollbars... /stabs them/

Hee hee… Want to read the elaboration on Dai molesting Sato? Then **REVIEW**! xDDD Yay for SatoxDai-ness! ./dances around in circles/

**Plus one last note:** Heh heh heh... Fear my insensitive chapter titling. xDDD

**Next Chapter:** SatoxDai-ness to he max! …I know I promised that last time, but this time I'm not lying! …I sorta said that too last last time, but I really mean it now. xDDD …I'm pretty sure. O.o Heh heh…


	4. Yay For Steamy Bishie Kissing

**Title: **Tribulation Within**  
Pairing: **Satoshi/Daisuke

**Summary: **(SatoshiDaisuke) A new play debuts, a steamy kiss ensues, love is snubbed, feelings are uncovered, Satoshi avoids confrontation, and Daisuke just can't wait to confess his love. Thus, the drama unfolds – all of it on stage, but not in the script.

See, I had to change the summary because Daisuke isn't going to forget his lines – he's just going to ignore them and make up his own proclamation of love. xD

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own. /mushroom sigh/ Don't own Phantom of the Opera either- t'was just a snippet of a mention.

**Japanese Vocabulary**  
Kuso: shit  
Chikushou: damn it  
Che: damn  
Jii-chan: grandpa  
Ichigo: strawberry  
Aishiteru: I love you.

_The play is in italics._  
**Tamer-Angel conversations are in bolded italics.  
**Anything not pertaining to the play – like Dai and Sato veering completely off the script XD – is in normal mode.

Notice that I've tried to stray away from the word 'girl' as much as possible when referring to Daisuke whilst in detective Takagi's perspective; instead, I've tried to replace all 'girls' with 'thief'. Fear a flood of the word 'thief'.

Love Dark and his yaoi-ful matchmaking goodness. Also worship panicked!Krad and bow to his OOC-ness.

Eh… I know there was some confusion and controversy relating to Satoshi's OOC attitude during the play, but I just want to point out that everything Satoshi did in the italics was actually the scriptwriter's interpretation of how **Takagi Heiji** would deal with what's going on, not Satoshi himself, even if I used his name. If you can't deal with a shrieking Sato (hey, I probably can't either xD), then pretend that Sato's a **bloody **brilliant actor, or that a senpai who sounded like him **prerecorded** all happy yelling and insanity because oh-great-blue-haired-bishie refused to.

------

**Last time:** _Satoshi's was abruptly pulled from his thoughts when a pair of soft lips pressed themselves against the skin of his neck._

_**Oh my GOD. **Satoshi's head reeled back in shock as his mind began to process just what was going on. **Is he kissing me?**_

------

Satoshi's body grew rigid and his entire face flushed a vibrant red that would put Daisuke himself to shame. Heat began to pool at the small patch of skin where Daisuke's lips had touched him, then flared out in every direction as those petal-soft touches began to migrate up.

Krad stirred drowsily, having awakened from the nap Satoshi had ordered he take. He blinked, and for a moment, his unguarded face bore the eyes of a slightly bemused human being. However, it was just for a split second, and his mind processed the fact that Daisuke's lips were all over his property. His brilliant topazes widened lividly at the scene displayed before him and he bared his teeth in a hiss, making him look even more feline-like than usual. Surprisingly, his first words were not along the lines of 'Let me at him!' or 'I'll kill that stupid Niwa!' Rather, the first words that left his mouth were…

_**SEXUAL PREDATOR!**_ Krad gasped loudly, prancing around Satoshi's head fretfully. _**Nooooo, Satoshi-sama! RunrunrunrunRUN! Call the police!**_

Satoshi didn't even bother to point out the fact that he _was_ the police. In fact, he thought it better to just…pretend Krad wasn't there.

In fact, it was a pretty effortless feat, seeing that Satoshi had a rather active Daisuke hovering above him doing less than innocent things to his neck. Krad was the last thing on his mind when a gust of hot breath rippled over his jaw, and the shadows of Daisuke's slowly moving head were cast over his range of vision. He stifled an involuntary titter when a curtain of surprisingly soft and ticklish onyx hair fell over his face, and it was almost abruptly followed by a soft gasp when tendrils of breath rolled over the flushed skin of his ear. "Doesn't this prove my love for you?" Daisuke murmured lovingly, and he lightly kissed the shell of Satoshi's ear.

Satoshi's eyes widened madly and he half-growled. It was only half a growl because the other half was a low groan. _"S-stop it. Get o…off me!"_ His own thoughts and insecurities mingled with his given lines, and he tried to push Daisuke off him. He cursed the stutter that had broken through his usually calm composure, but had no time to brood over this when a gentle nip to his earlobe set the nerves in that hearing appendage on fire.

"Stop pretending for once," Daisuke suggested. Satoshi suspected these words had nothing to do with the play, for Daisuke had said them in a whisper. Apparently, he had decided to forsake the play for the time being; he hadn't said his line yet, his microphone was angled to his eyebrow, and he didn't seem too intent on stopping his molestation – eh…_ministrations_. "Indulge."

Satoshi didn't understand. He struggled with the proposal to 'indulge,' along with the insistent pair of lips connected to Daisuke's cross-dressed body. Just what the hell was going on? Sure, the idiot above him would eat half-poisoned food for sake of another's cooking/housewife confidence, but would he go _this_ far to make Satoshi feel loved?

Satoshi didn't understand, and he was confused. Insert a little angry face – a closed arrow, an equal sign, and an open bracket – into that sentence, and that was Satoshi.

The blunette squirmed uncomfortably. Daisuke's lips soon found a patch of reddened skin and inhaled the area sharply, vibrations escaping his throat as he hummed thickly. He had dreamed of this for a long time, but he knew with a broken heart that the pleasure and love of this moment was not true. It was not real love that was fueling Daisuke forward; his actions were watered down with guilt and pity.

"_What are you doing?"_ Satoshi roared, patience wearing thin_. "Get off me right now."_ His microphone let out an unpleasant shriek in response to his volume and half the audience jumped. He lifted his stationary arms and tried to push Daisuke off him. He scrabbled at his chest and neck, his attempts horribly futile, until the redhead's skilled fingers grasped his slender wrists in a vice grip. The little thief forced his arms back to the floor, pinning them down to his sides without even looking up from Satoshi's neck. His knees even managed to maintain their balance, and he stayed anchored to his position despite Satoshi's bodily thrashing.

"Don't fight," Daisuke cooed into Satoshi's neck. He slowly poked his tongue out from between two pink lips and shyly ran it along a bluish vein that was vaguely visible through the blunette's flesh. "Please don't," he half-whimpered, his innocently pleading tone almost melting Satoshi into a flustered pile of sexy goop.

But _almost_ was the key word, and Satoshi continued to thrash around like a fish out of water that was being straddled and molested by another fish. "No," he stated firmly, glaring at the head clad in artificial hair that was practically connected to his neck. _"Stop it."_

Daisuke, ever the stubborn one, ignored him and pressed his form to Satoshi's. He sighed, eyes closing sensually, and began to rock his head back and forth, opening and closing his mouth rhythmically. His soft, full lips rubbed against Satoshi's skin, tongue dancing shyly against the pale flesh encircled by his mouth, and every breath that escaped his throat was low and slightly ragged.

Satoshi released a throaty moan, eyes fluttering blissfully as petal-soft kisses were rained across the length of his neck. He didn't mean to enjoy this faux display of love and affection, but to be frank, his body knew he wanted this. It was just too hard to resist Daisuke's touch; dreams and fantasies of the redhead had forced him to grow dependant on bodily contact. His breath hitched and he gasped loudly as the boy above him sucked hungrily on the skin to the left of his Adams apple. He could do nothing to stop him, and felt horrible shame for the fact that he didn't really want to.

Suddenly, the ringing of a cell phone sounded through the air, making Daisuke freeze in place. Satoshi's heart began to slow down in relief, and he heaved out a tremendous sigh. Any longer under Daisuke's ministrations, and he probably would have flipped them over and ravished him on the spot. The little thief whimpered sadly to himself, disappointed in the fact that his fun had been cut short, and reluctantly crawled off Satoshi. He slipped his hand into the front pocket of Satoshi's pants – his fingers maybe a trifle to close to a certain area for Satoshi's comfort – and pulled out the ringing phone. He shot the blunette one last searing stare – eyes alight with zeal – and wordlessly mouthed the words 'I love you' before falling back into character.

_Daisuke scrambled off Satoshi's form in surprise with the detective's phone in his hand, the light just above the camera lens blinking several colors in time with the beat of the ring. He pressed his heel-clad foot against the fallen one's chest, keeping him pinned to the floor, and flipped the phone open disinterestedly. "What?" he barked. Hey, he was pissed. You try getting 'in touch' with the newest shiny object of your affections, only to be interrupted by his stupid phone. It was a very pissable situation._

Like all other phone conversations, a senpai was backstage, projecting her voice through a handheld microphone.

"_Hey, Takagi-san, what are you still doing in the museum? The surveillance cameras are still short-circuited, but Kazuru called me on his way out saying that he saw lights on the crime floor. All my guards have punched out, except for the ones still on duty, and they're here with me, so the only possibility left is you. I know you're insane and all, but stop working and get out of my museum."_

_Daisuke inwardly rolled his eyes at the woman on the other side of the phone line. "I'm sorry," he replied, voice impossibly cheerful, "but Heiji-san is a little _busy_ at the moment. Bitch later. Ja!" He snapped the phone shut, ending the conversation abruptly._

"_Who was that?" Satoshi demanded, struggling in vain against the boot pressed to his torso. "How do you know my name?"_

_Daisuke shot Satoshi a Cheshire cat grin, removing his foot from the silver-haired teen's upper body and dropping to the floor beside him in a split second, giving him no chance to escape his clutches. "Just as I know how to outsmart your town's stupid police forces, I know your name. Don't find it surprising."_

_Satoshi felt something cold press against his wrist as Daisuke dropped his phone back into his pocket. He couldn't turn to look at whatever it was touching him, for the thief's face was right in front of his, nose-to-nose, but he just assumed it was an upturned rope stand, or the ground or something. He turned away from the onyx-haired other, a blush blossoming on the shells of his ears at the close proximity, just as Daisuke concluded his speech._

"_Don't find it surprising, dear Tantei-kun, that the next time we meet, I will finish what I started here."_

Satoshi stared in shock – and maybe a little eagerness – at Daisuke. Sure, the redhead was an acceptable actor, but the tone of voice he had just used proved that he wholeheartedly planned to do what his character had promised. This scared – and maybe even excited – Satoshi. …Oh dear. More molestation to come, eh? Ah well; Satoshi wasn't complaining much. x)

_The next thing Satoshi saw before he hurriedly shut his eyes was a flurry of wine-red. Wind whipped around his head and soft objects blew into his face, taking a dip and swimming laps in his hair. After the tornado of zephyrs had died down, he cracked one cerulean eye open, grateful for the protection his glasses gave him, and saw that he was all alone. Yami no Dorobou had fled once more._

_Satoshi sighed loudly to himself, heaving out a defeated groan. "Why me?" he snapped at the darkness, slamming one palm down into his lap from its position on the ground. "Am I that drop dead sexy?"_

"Ahhhhhh! Hiwatari-kun-san-sama! Yes you are! AAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEE!"

Satoshi resisted the urge to sit up and throw a stage prop at his fan club.

_His fisted hand felt several soft things amidst the fabric of his pants, and he groped at them blindly. Not bothering to attempt getting up, he merely held his arm up before his eyes and uncurled his fingers. A shower of claret rose petals rained upon his face, sliding down his cheeks and neck. That explained the flurry of wine-red he had witnessed before closing his eyes…_

_Sighing again at his failure in catching Yami no Dorobou when the thief was right in front of him, he lifted both hands, preparing to cup his face in a cliché brooding manner. His left hand got there okay, but his right hand…_

"…_the hell?"_

_His right hand had gone up several inches, only to stop in midair. Something was stopping him from moving his hand. He sat up, leant against a nearby display case right in the middle of the room, and looked down. Something shiny and silver glittered up at him, mocking him from its location curled around his wrist._

_He was friggin' handcuffed to an upturned rope stand. _**- 1 -**

_Satoshi growled to himself, glaring up at the sky. "Why me?" he repeated again, daring the ceiling to answer him. "Why is it flippin' me?" His free hand ventured over to his pocket for a key when he realized…_

_He didn't have the key._

_He had been given the handcuffs by an officer on duty. The officer had never given him the keys. Perhaps he had thought that Satoshi was far too intelligent to end up handcuffing himself to something._

_The officer was wrong. Ha ha, stupid cop. Satoshi _did_ end up handcuffed to something. Hahahahaha… Wait, it wasn't a laughing matter. No, it really wasn't. In fact, it really sucked._

"_Kuso!" Satoshi cursed loudly. His voice echoed throughout the exhibit and returned back to him, as though the art and walls agreed with his opinion in this situation. "Kuso kuso kuso!" He jangled his arm, making the heavy rope stand roll an inch, then stop. He tried lifting his arm, even using his left hand to pull it up, but the only good that did was make the silver cuff dig painfully into his flesh from the weight of the stand._

"_Chikushou!" Satoshi swore again before leaning against the display case limply. He mumbled something incoherently under his breath, slowly exhaling to calm his nerves. He had to get these handcuffs off somehow, and he would! He just needed to placate himself. Breathe. Breathe._

_It was no use. He was the detective, not the thief. He couldn't untie a knot for his life, let alone unlock a pair of handcuffs. Satoshi glared at the cuffs hotly, using his untapped magical powers to open—_

_Bah. It was still no use. This wasn't a manga. It was just his effed up life._

_Satoshi jangled his arm once more – knowing anything else would result in being futile anyway – before delving into his pocket with his left hand for his cell phone. He muttered a half-hearted "Che," glaring into the dark void presented before him, before trying to remember the number Hitomi-san, the director of the museum, had given him._

…_But had she even given him one?_

"_CHE! KUSO-KUSO-CHIKUSHOU-CHE-CHE!"_

_No, she hadn't._

"_CHIKUSHOU-KUSO-CHE-KUSO---!" _**- 2 -**

_He would have continued, had the two scarce sources of light in front and in back of him had not switched off. Only lonely, crazy people swore in the dark._

_He was neither. His life was just seriously effed up._

------

The curtains closed and Satoshi breathed in, slowly releasing the air he had inhaled after about five seconds of holding it in. Yelling out swear words really tired one out, especially when one really meant them.

All the while he had cursed, he was thinking about Daisuke. Just what had happened back there, in front of all those people? Just. What. The. Hell.

Satoshi was beyond confused, even more confused than he had been in the middle of the moment. Now he had time to think about what was going on – but didn't even know _what_ the bloody hell _was_ going on.

Perhaps Daisuke was high.

But high off what?

Love?

Bah. Hippie junk.

Satoshi was cranky, because apparently, a confused Satoshi was a cranky one. Coincidentally, a confused Satoshi also happened to mutate into an 'arg-I'm-gonna-find-out-all-your-secrets-and-the-_real_-reason-why-you-molested-me-comma-Daisuke-exclamation-point' Satoshi.

This transfigured Satoshi would fulfill the promises of his name; this he promised himself. Even if he had to play at Daisuke's own little twisted game, he _would_ get some answers ––

"Hiwatari!" Ika hissed from the side of the stage. Behind her was Daisuke, looking perfectly innocent, as though he hadn't been doing semi-sexual things with Satoshi just a few minutes ago. "What are you, brain dead? Get off your back (You're ruining the shirt!) and get into your next spot!"

Satoshi sluggishly obeyed the director's orders, hauling his back off the cardboard box that had played the part of the display case. "Hai, hai- wait."

"Pscht, like the show would wait for _you_ – oh my gawd, the show _must_ wait for you! Your tie is loose!" Ika gasped, as though a loose tie were the worst thing in the world. Well, it was to her anyway, but who really cared? "Lemme fix it for you!" she quickly shuffled to Satoshi's aid as several stagehands began to fix up the set for the next scene. Pressing the thumb and index finger of her left hand to the little knot in between his collar, Ika used her right hand to tug on the tongue of the tie, tightening it. "Perfect, Hiwatari. We can't have you looking like a slob on stage! Hoy…wait a minute!" She stared intently at his neck, causing Satoshi to grow self-conscious at the red blush that was still staining his ears and neck. "What's wrong with your neck?"

"What do you mean?" Satoshi questioned carefully, feigning obliviousness at the fact that he was still the color of a faded tomato.

"What do you mean what do I mean?" Ika shoved a hand into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a circular compact mirror. Flipping it open with the use of only one acrylic-nailed thumb like the compact-mirror-opening-genius-girl she was, she shoved it at his neck. The mirror at the bottom reflected the image onto the one on the top, and what Satoshi saw in the reflecting glass was quite a surprise.

Contrasting against the pale expanse of his pallid neck was a patch of mottled pink skin that kind of popped out at you yelling, "Look at me, look at me – I'm on Satoshi's neck! Use that as a reason to stare at him like meat, bwuhahaha." It was quite large, and shined in the artificial lighting of the stage as though it were moist – which it pretty much was, thanks to the wonders of saliva. It was pinkish, its hue almost bordering a light shade of red, and looked completely out of place on his pastel skin.

To sum it all up, it was a hickey.

Satoshi stared transfixed at said hickey, eyes enlarging drastically at the seemingly little mark that was branded on his flesh. His eyes quickly flitted to the side where Daisuke was staring at him intently with an unreadable emotion beating in his eyes (which sure was something, considering that he was pretty much an open book most of the time). Once deep garnet met icy azure, the set of ruby eyes resumed their warm facets, and inches below curled an affectionate smile.

Satoshi resisted the urge to throw Daisuke an 'I'm-gonna-kill-you-right-now' glare in response to the innocent little grin, instead settling for a 'you-just-wait-'til-we-get-outside-and-I-get-my-police-gun' glower. There's a difference, see?

Daisuke merely beamed his brightest and waved innocently at the blunette, waggling his fingers with a teasing air.

"Hey, hey, Hiwatari, pay attention to me!" Ika interrupted the wordless glare-smile conversation between Satoshi and Daisuke, poking the commander on the chest. "What is that? Are you sick? I didn't see it earlier…" She held her chin contemplatively, studying at the hickey. "Don't tell me…"

"It's nothing," Satoshi cut in, disrupting her train of dialogue. "It's just a rash." He tugged the tops of his folded collar a bit higher, though that didn't do a very good job at concealing the blemish.

"It doesn't look like a-"

"Don't," Satoshi ordered coldly, making Ika, the slightly taller and considerably older of the two of them, stop, "question me. It's a rash. Period."

Ika glanced at him warily, rather spooked by his callous tone. "You forget that I am your senpai!"

Dramatic music rang through the air, making the entire place sound as though it were in a scene from the Phantom of the Opera. "You forget," Satoshi pointed out, staring disinterestedly at his cuticles, "that we are in the middle of your play."

Ika squeaked and slapped a hand over her own mouth. "Meep." The incredibly strange director skipped off the stage, the flare of her jeans and the heel of her tennis shoes just barely escaping the sight of the audience. The lights above the stage flickered to life, and a squeaking noise filled the air.

_Swish, swish, swish._

The curtains had begun opening once again. _Action._

------

_Satoshi was in an almost-killing frenzy the morning after his confrontation with Yami no Dorobou. Sure, he was frustrated at the thief for touching him inappropriately, for cuffing him immobile in the middle of an empty museum, and for putting him through the humiliation of being found several hours later (asleep) by a guard who just so happened to be walking by, but that wasn't the reason to why he was currently raving._

"_Takagi, Takagi, calm down!" Katou wheedled pathetically, placing a palm over his friend's shoulder in a fruitless attempt to placate him._

"_No!" Satoshi grabbed the closest, breakable thing – which just so happened to be a lamp – and hurled it at the floor, pulling its plugged cord from the wall and causing the ceramic light-bearer to shatter into a million pieces on contact. "Why should I?" He eyed the jagged white bits of the ruined lamp angrily._

"_What is your problem?" Katou demanded, grabbing both of Satoshi's soldiers in his grasp. He stared him in the eye, searching for any trace or clue of his odd behavior. All he saw was anger and fear and more anger, and there was no more fear; he was hysteric with rage._

"_What's my problem?" Satoshi repeated sardonically. "This!" His hand automatically flew to his pocket, and for a second, Katou thought he was going to shoot him. The brunette had even reeled back a couple inches and pulled his arms up to his face in protection. But apparently, Satoshi had no 'kill Katou' ideas of the sort in mind, for instead of a pistol, his fingers extracted a worn leather wallet – a wallet that was then promptly, and rather violently, thrown at Katou's face._

_The brown-haired teen ducked out of reflex and caught the falling wallet before it hit the ground. Katou grinned cheekily, examining the wallet with disinterest. "What? Some street kid steal your yen?" He flipped it open and was greeted by the glossy visage of a student ID. His face fell and he glanced somberly up at Satoshi's face. "Eh… You okay?"_

"_The hell I'm not!" Satoshi snapped, stomping on the shattered lamp pieces to express his aggravation. "She took it…Katou." He said his friend's name in a slight whisper, his shaking frame wilting with gloom and slumping forward over his desk with his palms holding him up. Then, in a more subdued tone, he murmured: "She took the last three pictures I had left…"_

_Katou folded the leather wallet back up, pressing Velcro hooks against Velcro loops to fasten it shut. His eyes were downcast, mourning for and pitying his unstable friend. He knew that the three pictures (which were never taken out of the wallet and were always in front of the student ID) were all Satoshi had left of his family, for everything else had been burnt to ashes the day of their deaths. To have them taken away from him…it was just… The brunette shuddered._

_Long, slim digits twitched from their position atop the surface of the desk. Satoshi hunched over the wooden structure, glaring at the files the pads of his fingers were resting over. Yami no Dorobou this; Yami no Dorobou that. Even the pixelly image of her grayscale-hued face was scattered everywhere on his desk. It was as if she were mocking him through no fault of her own. But she was still mocking him…somehow! He seethed silently, unconsciously crumpling a file on her first steal in his now fisted hand._

"_I have to get those pictures back!" Satoshi declared aloud, lobbing the creased file all the way to the other side of the room. "I'll confront Yami no Dorobou, I'll get them back, and I'll arrest that stupid thief once and for all." He tugged angrily on his tie and sent one last glare toward the files littering his desk before sweeping out of his office, leaving Katou alone with his wallet in his hands._

_Katou shook his head dejectedly, walking over to Satoshi's abandoned desk and reverently placing the wallet back onto its surface. His eyes scanned the scattered wreck of files with a neutral expression before pupils centered within hazel irises stopped at a small slip of paper._

_The teen grasped the slip of paper slowly, rubbing his thumb in circles over its telltale face. The not-finger made a slight crinkling sound as it chafed over the left side of the card, where a flat reddish object had been glued on. A pressed rose. A pressed rose shaped like a heart._

_Katou slammed his palm onto the desk, bringing the slip of paper down with him. He moodily shoved both hands into his pockets, not sparing any part of the room other than the door another glance. He emulated his best friend's prior action and exited the office, slamming wood onto threshold as he did so._

_Atop the desk, the little slip of paper curled innocently as a breeze blew through the room. Documents ruffled in response to the draft, but the numerous paperweights decorating the desk did their job, anchoring the manuscripts in place._

_The little slip of paper curled more violently until it flipped completely over – again and again – until it reached the edge of the desk and teetered perilously like a person would when confronted by the thousand-foot drop of a steep cliff. And then it simply fell._

_Whoosh._

_The wind pushed it out a window, somewhere unknown to man, taking its message away from the depressed décor of the depressed PI's office. But the message could never be taken away from the investigator's mind. The note had been forcefully burnt into his already dreary memory, perhaps scarring him once more in the span of three years._

**Took them.**_  
**– **_**Love, Yami no Dorobou**

_The photos were gone, the victim was vengeful, the thief was mocking, and this was only the beginning._

------

"_Come out, Yami no Dorobou! I know you're hiding here somewhere!" Satoshi stalked around the exhibit with the utmost stealth, prowling about like a faceless shadow and studying every possible crevice as though it were housing the thief he was searching for._

_The official investigation had finished only several minutes ago, and Satoshi had automatically tried to look into his wallet, only to remember that there was no picture to look at. He had exploded (silently, of course, as not to alarm the police officers trickling out the doors) and immediately gone into 'rancorous detective' mode._

"_Come out, come out, wherever you are," he chanted evenly, willing to play the thief's game in order to get his photos back._

_There was only silence._

_Satoshi finally collapsed onto a bench beside the lavatory, holding his watch out before him. "It's been half an hour." He sighed and shook his head, letting his arm go limp against the cap of his knee. "She's not coming." He slumped over miserably, silver bangs creating silky curtains over his eyes. A shadow was soon drawn over the left side of his face, enshrouding the corresponding side in darkness. A silent minute ticked by, and then, the lights simply extinguished._

_This went on for another week or two. Satoshi would stay after every investigation and hold a bitter vigil for the thief, only to come up empty-handed._

Since each scene showing Satoshi's failed searches were much too short to be actual scenes, the lights simply dimmed down then flared back to life, giving off the impression that many days were passing as Satoshi searched. In fact, a handy little play trick he was taught was to turn his back to the audience to turn the audience's attention away from him and to the fleeting days.

"_I know you're here!"_

_Nothing. A day passed._

"_Come out right now."_

_Nothing. Half a week passed._

"_I want to talk to you, so come out and face me like a man!"_

_Wait… She wasn't a man. Oh well – nothing anyway. Two weeks passed._

_Satoshi sighed and slumped limply against the wall of the museum exhibit he was currently in. Letting the force of gravity take its toll, he slid down the cool plaster and reached the equally cool floor in a matter of seconds. The silver-haired youth spread his legs out before him, staring past his leather dress shoes as though they weren't there. Another sigh escaped his lips._

"_Where are you, Yami no Dorobou?" he asked air. "I just want to talk…" His voice was weary and jaded- as though he had lost all hope of confronting the thief. "Please…?" He stared up at the vast ceiling above his head, only seeing a dark blackness that held no light. There was a movement somewhere beside him, and the sound of cloth against cloth was temporary in the air. He paid this no attention, for there was a breeze running through the museum and he was seated beside a window with great, willowy curtains._

"_I should just give up," Satoshi resolved aloud, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He sighed once more and pulled his legs to his chest, crossing his left ankle over his right and wrapping his arms around his knees. "I should, shouldn't I?"_

"_No, you shouldn't."_

_Satoshi jumped at the sudden voice, not expecting to be answered – by the person he was trying to call, of all people. He turned his head to face the speaker and was greeted by sparkling twin rubies and a gentle smile upon pink lips. "Y-you!" he stuttered out, scrambling off the floor and managing to trip over his crossed ankles. He righted himself and stood with bated breath before Yami no Dorobou, glaring at the thief angrily, all prior jaded thoughts banished from his mind._

"_The one and only." Daisuke was right beside the spot Satoshi had just been seated in, sitting on his knees with his calves below him. His palms rested calmly against each other, fingers intertwined, and his connected hands lay comfortably against his exposed thighs. His face was cool and composed, save the amused grin curling on his lips. "Though you shouldn't talk to yourself like that. It's not healthy." The grin grew with laughter, pleased with the joke it had just expelled._

"_Don't eff with me, Dorobou! Why didn't you come when I called for you all those other times?" Satoshi demanded._

"_Ah-ah-ah," Daisuke teased, waggling a gloved index finger at Satoshi. "Dorobou-_kun_," he corrected._

"_Dorobou." Satoshi repeated stubbornly._

"_Dorobou-_kun_," Daisuke said insistently, curling his fists together._

"_Dorobou."_

"_Dorobou-_KUN_."_

"_Dorobou…kun," Satoshi sighed, shoulders wilting in defeat._

"_Lovely," Daisuke commented, folding his hands within his lap once again._

"_Now answer my question, Dorobou-kun." Satoshi crossed his arms and repeated his aforementioned said question._

_Daisuke shrugged and pulled a rose from one of the folds of his skirt. "You were ordering me around. I don't like that." He shook his head disapprovingly. "This time you asked nicely. I liked that."_

_Satoshi stared at the sitting thief incredulously. "Are you serious?"_

"_Do I look it?"_

"_I had tried and failed to get a hold of you for two straight weeks, and all I had to do was ask you nicely?"_

"_That's what I'm saying."_

_Satoshi rolled his eyes. "You have the incompetent mind of a five-year-old," he decided._

"_I don't like that," Daisuke fired back, sticking his tongue out at Satoshi as the detective glared at him. The dark-haired one grinned mockingly, emulating his adversary's arm movements and crossing them resolutely._

_Satoshi growled impatiently, dropping his arms limply to his sides. "No messing around this time." He stalked forward, lightly pigmented bangs blowing out of his eyes, and stopped right before the thief's gleaming boots. He glowered. "Give me back my pictures." He held out his hand expectantly, glaring into those expressive garnet eyes._

"_I like them." Daisuke glanced at his glove-covered nails nonchalantly. "I'm thinking about keeping them."_

_Satoshi's eyes widened, horror splashed on every beautiful inch of his face. "No, you can't. You can't do that!"_

_Daisuke smirked. "Can and will."_

"_No." Satoshi glared at the mocking sneer that graced the thief's pretty face, though it quickly disappeared as he tried to regain his composure. "I suggest that you don't." He slipped his hands into his pockets in a seemingly idle manner._

"_I take suggestions lightly," Daisuke informed him, standing just as calmly and running his fingers and palms down the gray ruffles of his skirt to smoothen the fabric out. His offered the detective a pleasant smile, as though they were old friends sharing an elusive banter and not sworn adversaries discussing stolen possessions._

"_And once again, I suggest that you don't," Satoshi repeated. He released one hand from the warm confines of his pocket and tipped the brim of his hat over his left eye, hiding the furrow of his brow and the dimming patience that surely showed on his face._

_Daisuke merely laughed, throwing his head back in mirth. "Well this is going nowhere fast, isn't it?"_

_Satoshi nodded his affirmation and shot Daisuke a penetrating look. "We ought to end it." He held his hand out again, this time right under the ebony-haired one's nose. "Give me my pictures," he demanded._

Daisuke grinned cheerfully and shook his head. He swiftly glanced down at the long, slim fingers presented before him and another very out of super cute and innocent Daisuke character thought burst into his mind: Bite sexy Hiwatari-kun.

_**You go, girl,**_ Dark commented blandly, studying his nails nonchalantly whilst ignoring Daisuke's sputtered protests against the 'girl' remark.

Daisuke let a quite-too-enthusiastic smile break onto his face and glanced up at Satoshi's eyes for a split second. He stood on the toes of his boots to add to his height, and the, without warning, he rocked forward and grasped those perfect digits in a gentle hold. With raised lips and bared canines, he softly bit down and shortly ran his tongue along warm fingertips. Then he released the surprised Satoshi's flesh from his mouth and smiled at the large, gaping hole that in reality was the commander's slack-jawed mouth.

Now what was all the fuss? It was hardly anything. It was barely even a bite. It was more like a love nip, really. With much, much love. x)

Satoshi quickly hid the stunned expression that had shown so clearly on his face and drew back his arm. A shocked – albeit satisfied – smile was attempting to take his lips hostage, and the fact that a sheet of pink blush had already begun to roll over the back of his neck wasn't helping much. He pushed away the unsettling feelings of pleasure and approval that racked his mind even after Daisuke had pulled away and realized that he rather liked the hot feeling of Daisuke's lips and tongue pressed to his skin.

But what did this mean? Satoshi believed he was receiving mixed messaged. A week ago, Daisuke had run away from him. Now, he was all but raping him.

Poor Satoshi was confused. It wasn't the cranky kind of confusion like last time – it was confused confusion, the normal people kind. Consequently, the blunette responded to this lack of comprehension by doing as great men and women of his time did when faced by this vicious enemy: he ignored it. Although he wasn't the biggest fan of Fate, he believed in the concept of it and decided that only time and fate would bring about understanding.

Satoshi placed both hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow. "I said, 'Give me my pictures,' not 'Give me rabies.'" Ah, the wonders of improvising. _"Now give me my pictures,"_ he repeated, in order to restore peace to the play, as though there was no interruption that consisted of biting.

"_I don't think so," Daisuke sang, as though he were an older brother holding a piece of candy out of a younger sibling's reach._

_Satoshi tugged at his tie, a bad sign; his patience was waning. "You will give me my pictures now," he dictated, staring into Daisuke's wide, red eyes sternly. "You will then turn around and allow me to cuff you. You will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law, and you will go to jail. You will sit in jail, and _you will be happy._" He ran the pads of his fingers along the length of his silky garnet tie and pulled out a pair or handcuffs. This time, he had a key in his pocket – just in case._

_Daisuke crossed his arms and shook his head defiantly, though his large, innocent eyes made him look more like a naughty child than a defiant thief. "No. I will not." He only had one second to blink before an airborne Satoshi pounced out at him. Luckily, the skilled bandit had fast, agile reflexes, and he fluently dodged the tackle by crouching down and performing a rather flashy front flip over the detective's form. Somehow, he managed to keep his skirt pressed firmly to his thighs so as to not expose anything…private._

The audience gasped in surprise at Daisuke's feat. That was, like, five flippin' feet in the air, man! Crazy as hell!

"Oooooh, that's my Dai-chan!" Emiko gushed from somewhere in the middle-back of the throng of spectators.

_Daisuke landed soundly several feet behind Satoshi's turned back and resumed his haughty stance. "Nice try. But I'm obviously better."_

_Satoshi turned and glared. "Maybe physically. But not mind-wise." He took several unnoticeable steps forward._

"_Excuse me?" Daisuke arched an eyebrow. "Are you calling me stupid?"_

"_That, and the fact that I believe you also have a short attention span and focus primarily on the biggest ideas in a room when you ought to be focusing on the small details that could hurt you."_

"_Small details?" Daisuke let out a derisive snort of laughter. "And what might those small details be?"_

"_My being…this close to you." Those several inconspicuous steps, added to several more inconspicuous steps, had eventually brought Satoshi a little less than a foot away from Daisuke. "And taking into account that you do tend to 'focus primarily on the biggest ideas in a room,' which just so happens to be my talking, you wouldn't have noticed my arm reaching up to capture your wrist in my grasp." The silver-haired teen did as he said, catching the thief's wrist between his curled fingers before the raven-haired one could even react._

"_Hm." Daisuke looked unimpressed. "Wit goes a long way." He smirked. "But according to your deductions, it's lucky for me that force goes the rest." He tried to pull his arm back, only to feel the hold on his wrist tighten almost painfully._

"_In this case, I'm afraid it doesn't." It was Satoshi's turn to smirk. He pulled raised the pair of handcuffs and soundly ensnared the ebony-haired one's wrist within its hold, tightening it so that the gloved hand couldn't escape._

_Daisuke's eyes widened, but he quickly hid this with a smirk of his own. "Then I guess I'll have to use wit." In a flash, his free hand grabbed the dangling half of the cuffs, wrapped it around Satoshi's wrist – the one closest to his own immobile hand – and secured it tightly. "Now who 'focuses primarily on the biggest idea in a room'?" he mocked, throwing the detectives words back at him._

_Satoshi gasped in surprise when the cold metal constricted around his wrist and released his hold on Daisuke. He glanced in between their connected hands and gave a noncommittal shrug. "All the better for me. We're cuffed to each other; now you can't escape. All I have to do is walk into the police station and bring you in, and you can't do anything about it."_

_Daisuke's eyes widened in apprehension; he had realized how stupid of a decision it was to cuff himself to the enemy. "Lemme go," he ordered._

"_No." It was Satoshi turn to mock the ever-so-taunting thief. He smirked lightly at the shorter one's distress and shook his head. "I don't think I will."_

"_Let me go," Daisuke insisted. His eyes were narrowed in anger, though anxiety and fear sparkled significantly within their blood red depths._

"_You're the one who cuffed me to you," Satoshi pointed out blandly._

"_Well you own the handcuffs. You must have a key. Let me go."_

"_No," was the simple reply, accompanied by a satisfied smirk._

"_Let. Me. Go," Daisuke ground out lowly, a dangerous scowl forming on his lips. He glared up at the victorious detective, balling his raised and cuffed hand into an angered fist._

_Satoshi let out a humorless chuckle. "Not until I've gotten a good look at you." He pulled his arm to himself, causing the usually balanced thief to stumble forward. He gazed closely into pulsing claret eyes, noting the way scruffy onyx bangs sprang out over a pale forehead and the curve of smooth-looking cheeks. He had no idea why he was enthralled by the bandit._

_Three years ago, he had promised himself to stay true to the girl his parents had chosen to marry him, whether she was dead or not._

_Why was he studying the thief in front of him with such intensity? Why was his heart beating so erratically?_

_Satoshi hated the thief. The thief had stolen from him something more precious than a trio of family pictures._

_Unwittingly, the thief had stolen his guarded heart. It was impossible, it was cliché, it was strange – it was love at first sight._

_Satoshi shook his head in denial. No, it wasn't right. He couldn't just forsake his fidelity to a dead girl as though the girl weren't alive! …But she wasn't alive. …_Could_ he forsake his fidelity?_

"_You don't _look_ like a notorious thief…" the detective murmured, more to himself than to the bandit before him._

"_Maybe I'm not," Daisuke supplied nervously. "Maybe you've gotten the wrong person?"_

_Satoshi let a bark of laughter escape his lips. "Nice try, Dorobou-kun."_

"_Humph." Daisuke pouted and would have crossed his arms had Satoshi not been connected to one of them._

"_Now it's time for prison," Satoshi said calmly, as though he were referring to a mundane trip to the park and not a freedom-less jail cell reserved just for the thief._

_Daisuke grabbed Satoshi by the shoulders, the panic evident in his eyes. "No, don't make me go!"_

_Satoshi laughed yet again. "You're a criminal." He pushed the offending hands off his form and tugged lightly on them. "You need to go to jail." His voice hardened and the smile that had momentarily graced his face was gone. "You deserve it." The laughter had left his tone and all that was left was a somber, business-like tenor in his voice._

_Daisuke glanced helplessly between his captured hands and Satoshi's stern face. "…But I dun' wanna," he mewled pathetically, a grumpy frown fixing itself upon his face. "Please let me go." He pressed himself closer to the detective, shaking his wrists out of the other's grasp._

"_No." Satoshi blanched at their close proximity._

"_Please?"_

"_No." Now, more firmly it came. "Now to jail you go."_

_Daisuke hung his head and wilted sadly._

"_Humph." Satoshi led Daisuke by the cuff to the door. "As if you didn't see it coming."_

"_I didn't. I wasn't planning to be caught," Daisuke stated matter-of-factly._

"_I'll bet," Satoshi replied sarcastically. He walked a couple steps before stopping, making Daisuke crash into his back. "But…" His tone grew somber once more. "Just tell me one thing, Dorobou-kun." He turned and faced the shorter one, a serious expression on his face. "Why me? Why not some other schmoe off the street? And most important of all, why did you take those pictures? They were all I had left of them!" His voice had faded into a whisper._

_Daisuke thought for a moment before taking a step forward, pressing his face to Satoshi's so that they were nose-to-nose. "Tantei-kun, do you want to know why I steal?" He continued on in a whisper without letting the hoary-haired one respond. "It's because I can't have the things I steal. And believe me, I want the things I steal."_

"_What is this?" Satoshi snarled, his volume rising only slightly. "Why the hell did you take those pictures? Did you want those pictures that badly?"_

Daisuke glared daggers at his blue-haired friend, using his role as contemptuous thief to convey all his feelings of loathing for Satoshi. His frown only grew when his daggers were calmly caught by cool, nonchalant sapphires and indifferently regarded. Apparently, Daisuke's messages were being ignored; either that, or the Hikari was being a big fat IDIOT. Daisuke wasn't quite ready to rule out either option, feeling his detest for Satoshi grow.

Damn it all.

He couldn't concentrate one bit. Not when the mislead love of his life was quite intent on ignoring him; not when said love of said life was constantly drilling holes into his face without knowing how hot and flustered they caused Daisuke to grow under the collar (even though his top had no collar). He had fumbled his lines at least three times under that penetrating gaze, and it was really starting to piss him off. He found himself hating Satoshi even more.

_**Ah, young love,**_ Dark sighed pensively, draping his arm around inner Daisuke's shoulders.

_**Shut up,**_ Daisuke ground out, trying to block out Dark's voice from his thoughts. He needed every ounce of concentration put into glaring at Satoshi; he couldn't risk getting distracted.

_**Goodness,** _Dark mock gasped. _**Why so Kraddish?**_

**'_M'not Kraddish_,** Daisuke grumbled, staring intently at Satoshi's moving lips, a little part of him wanting to set them on fire.

**_Oh, yeah- and that's _so**_** not Kraddish…** _Dark commented sardonically, binding that little match-wielding piece of Daisuke with a piece of rope. _**Not at all.**_

_**I agree,**_ Daisuke concurred distractedly, still staring at Satoshi. **_Why won't he believe me? It's like he's _trying_ not to believe me,_** he mused aloud.

"_Of course I don't want your stupid dead family's pictures!" Daisuke retorted, he too deciding to spit the words out louder than when he had first started. "I wanted to make you forget them!"_

_**Then you've got to **_**make****_ him believe you, _**Dark advised.

"_Why would you want to do that?" By now, Satoshi was roaring. "What is your problem?"_

_**How do I do that?** _Daisuke snapped.** _I've _been_ trying._**

"_My problem!" Daisuke shook his cuffed fist heatedly, causing Satoshi's arm to rise up with it and suspend in the air. "My problem is you! I stole to get something I want!"_

_**You've got to convince him. Do something that'll make him take you seriously. …Say it. Tell him you love him right here and now. You mean business.**_

"_What do you want?"_

_**B-but we're in the middle of the play! My parents are here. My friends are here. Everyone's watching.**_

Dark glowered, being oddly supportive. _**If you love him, you won't care.**_

**_I _do_ love him._**

**_Then you _don't_ care._**

_**You're right.**_

_**Aren't I always?**_

"I want _you_!" Daisuke bellowed, squeezing his eyes shut and conveying every ounce of love and adoration for the blunette within his words.

"What-"

Daisuke's eyes fluttered open, glowing with a bright intensity that burned with fervor, and he interrupted Satoshi mid-question. "I _love_ you," he shouted, stomping his foot. "You're just too stupid and stubborn and _URGH_ to realize it! Don't tell me you don't feel the same!"

Satoshi's eyes widened, _'What are you doing, you jackass?'_ clearly written in their ocean-like depths. "Uh… _You…what?_" he asked, trying to put the play back on track.

"Shut up!" Daisuke all but screamed. "Tell me right _here_-" He stomped his foot again, not really caring that it made him seem like an immature child. "-and right _now_-" He stomped his foot again, harder this time so that it made a loud, empty thumping noise against the hollow floorboards of the stage. "-how you feel about me."

Satoshi was silent.

"And _don't_! Don't you dare say nothing!" Daisuke grabbed Satoshi and shook his fiercely. "Answer me, damn it!"

Satoshi's face was blank. "…Not now," he said softly.

Daisuke's frustration grew and his eyebrows furrowed in anger. "Yes! Right _now_," he ordered, the tips of his fingers creasing the ivory fabric of Satoshi's dress shirt and perhaps even coming close to bruising the skin that lay underneath. "Why won't you tell me you love me?" His knuckles were turning white in response to the amount of force he was exerting on the blunette's shoulders. He shook them once more. Several chain links down, the commander's arm hung limply, neither trying to push the redhead away in protest, nor attempting to move at all. "Do you not? _Why?_ _I _love _you_," he said earnestly, cranberry eyes staring straight into icy sky blue ones.

Satoshi studied those crimson eyes intently, unable to accept this proclamation of love. He himself didn't understand _why_ exactly, but it had something to do with chasing dreams, and fantasies, and other wishful things of a wistful manner. He could easily accept the little thief's lies and proceed to delude himself with the illusion of his so-called love. It was such an easy thing to do. It would make Satoshi happy.

…Or at least partially happy, for what person wanted to be truly happy living a lie, and loving the spawner of that lie?

But Satoshi couldn't do that. He didn't want anyone to pretend for the sake of his well being, to lie. He didn't want to be patronized and pitied.

Disdain and fury swirled at the base of his stomach, and each pump of ice that flowed through his veins helped feed the swirling mass of anger. But he _was_ being patronized; he _was_ being pitied.

He snapped.

"You lie!" Satoshi cried, inwardly surprised at how much emotion had flowed out through those two words. To hell with it all. He didn't care anymore. He would show as much emotion as he damn well wanted to.

Krad couldn't do a single thing about it either, lest he force his tamer to transform in front of everyone, thus revealing the centuries-old secret to an audience filled with stupid high schoolers. Sure, he could kill them all…but that would mean bloodying his well-manicured nails…

For the first time in a long time, Satoshi was free to express his emotions to another human without having to fear the painful growth of wings from his back that would eventually come. It was a pity that the emotions turning cogs in his brain weren't happy or loving at all; he felt rejected and angry and hateful, and so did his emotions.

"You're a liar!" The anguished commander shoved the little thief's nimble fingers off his shoulders and pushed him back as far as the faux manacle would allow. "Just shut up – and stop lying!"

Daisuke's eyes grew hooded beneath ebony bangs as he looked down. He timidly fingered the plastic chains with his free hand and stared at the floor silently. "Do you really think I'm lying?" He lifted his head a fraction of an inch, and the amount of hurt he held in his eyes surprised Satoshi greatly. "Why do you think I'm lying to you? Have I ever said anything to you that implied my supposed lying to you?" His eyes hardened. "Have I ever outright _said_ that I was lying?" He searched Satoshi's face for any trace of an answer. "No?" he questioned scathingly. "Then _why do you think that I'm lying to you_?"

Satoshi contemplated his crush's words, suddenly doubting his reasoning. Maybe he just couldn't get past the fact that happiness was eventual, for he had never experienced it before. Maybe he was too jaded in the sense that he would never gain a fulfillment of joy in his life.

…Or maybe Daisuke was trying to trick him…

Jumbled thoughts of love, hate, and the whole confusing conspiracy of it filled Satoshi's mind, and his hidden insecurities placed brick upon brick atop the walls of his doubt, rebuilding it, enforcing it. And thus, the skeptical beast inside him was released once more.

"That… You… It-it's just something you would do. You're the type who would lie for the sake of someone's happiness."

Daisuke bit his lip, absently wondering if Satoshi had somehow overheard the conversation he had shared with his jii-chan concerning the special situations wherein lying would protect someone.

_I don't see why you're surprised_, Dark commented, deciding to put his two cents in. _It's obvious that creepy boy is stalker-to-the-max! in j00r face, foo'._

"And how would you know?" Daisuke queried. "How would you know what type of person I am?" He allowed his eyes to narrow in irritation and his shoulder twitched at the growing tension. "You think you know me, but here's the thing: you _don't_. You're not even close. I don't like to lie – I _don't_ lie. You're just afraid." The redhead shot his friend an accusatory glare and angrily shoved a ticklish lock of hair away from his neck. "You're afraid to be happy. You'd rather be sad and deny yourself indulgences. You'd rather run from the problems you have with me than face them head on. You said I lie. _You_ lie! You lie and say you don't love me. You lie and hide the fact that you're a no-good _coward_. I'm _right here_, you blind fool," he announced loudly, spreading his arms out to the farthest of their ability. "Confront me and give me the truth."

The truth? You can't handle the truth.

Satoshi was almost tempted to say this rather clichéd line, but he managed to stop himself in time. Instead, he decided to fight Daisuke's fire with a heat of his own.

"You want me to confront you with my feelings?" the blunette snapped vehemently. "You and I _both_ know I can't do that. Maybe I _am_ afraid. Maybe I _am_ a coward. So what? What're you gonna do? Yell at me? Attack me? Stalk me?"

"If that's what I need to do," Daisuke stated hotly, "then don't think I won't."

_**Ooooh, scary,** _Krad commented. The angel let out a muffled cough that sounded suspiciously like 'obsessive compulsive.'

_**Oh, and like you're not,**_ Satoshi retorted cynically.

_**Thank you for the clarification, Satoshi-sama,** _was the placid reply.

Satoshi didn't quite know how to respond to Daisuke promise of stalking-goodness. He remained silent.

Daisuke's mood seemed to take a 360-degree turn and his eyes grew sad. "Is this it?" he whispered. "Are you gonna run, am I gonna chase, and are we gonna keep going on like this until we eventually give up and drift?"

"What do you want from me?" Satoshi asked wearily, his fervor suddenly dampened by Daisuke's sullen change in disposition. He pinched the area between his eyes despite the presence of his glasses.

"I don't want anything from you. I want _you_."

"Why do you want me?" Satoshi inquired in that same tired tone. "You've said it yourself: I'm afraid, I'm running, I'm hiding, I'm a _coward_."

"It's only human," Daisuke reasoned. "But you're denying yourself the emotional rights of _being_ human and locking your feelings away – that's why you're a coward. I understand that you think you're sharp and strong, but inside, you're fragile and delicate and – don't make that face at me! – really, you're afraid of what you've locked away. You're afraid to be happy, to be loved, because all you've ever seen is sadness and oppression. But you've _got to put it all past you_. You'll never lose that fear if you don't _trust me_. It's all just a matter of _trust_. Do you trust me?"

Satoshi noticed that Daisuke's eyes were a strange shade of red. They seemed to be glowing with an odd light, and along the bottom row of his lashes grew a thin film of some indefinable liquid… Oh crap- they were tears. Satoshi panicked. Daisuke was crying. What should he do? Within his mind, Krad flapped around, yelling obscenities and cackling in response to his misfortune.

_**Shut up, Krad! Ahhh…! What do I do- whatdoIdowhatdoIdo?**_

**_Smack him in the face_,** Krad suggested helpfully.

_**No! I feel bad enough for making him cry! What do I do?**_

"I…I trust you," Satoshi murmured uncertainly, trying to look anywhere but at Daisuke's watery eyes. He felt extremely guilty – making a fellow boy cry on account of his feelings was not something fourteen-year-old boys did.

"Do you?" Daisuke's gloved hand pressed itself against Satoshi's turned cheek, forcing him to look him in the eye.

"I do…" Satoshi admitted, staring almost fearfully at the clear liquid that had yet to fall from Daisuke's eyes. He didn't want to be responsible for making him cry. It wasn't very nice to make someone cry, and he had done just that.

"Then prove it. Lower your defenses and let me in. If you trust me, you'll trust me with your heart. And you _can_ trust me, because I won't even hurt you. I'd die before ever letting anyone or anything hurt you. You can hold me to that. Daisuke frowned and his brows creased in determination.

A single tear rolled down the expanse of Daisuke's curvy, pale cheek, and Satoshi could practically hear the crumbling of the distrustful walls in his heart breaking down within his ears. There was nothing a pitiful shedding of tears couldn't turn around.

The blunette cupped the leather-clad hand that was still pressed to his face and removed it gently. With his free, unchained hand, he brushed a lock of fake obsidian hair from Daisuke's eyes. Hesitantly, he ran his thumb along the trail of glittering moisture the teardrop had made and dried the other boy's smooth skin. "I can't promise you anything," Satoshi stated softly, making the redhead's dogged expression fall and leave defeat in its wake. "But… I can try."

Those three words sent Daisuke's heart soaring. That crushed look on his face instantaneously disappeared and in its place was the most excited smile ever seen on the face of the planet. The little thief glomped Satoshi tightly, rapidly blinking the unfallen tears from his eyes. "Do you mean it?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't," was the calm albeit joyful response.

Daisuke released his hold on Satoshi's waist and beamed innocently at him with sparkling scarlet eyes.

Unaware of the fact that his own eyes were glistening with happiness, Satoshi stared absently at those beaming lips, unconsciously leaning forward a little. He barely managed to stop himself, and as a result, his lips hovered a few mere centimeters over Daisuke's. The redhead blushed a blush that made his cherry red roots scream in envy, licking his suddenly dry lips nervously, before he outright surprised both himself and Satoshi. Meeting the slightly taller boy halfway, he tilted his face up and gently pressed their lips together.

Satoshi had almost forgotten how good it felt to have this kind of contact with Daisuke; he no longer regretted not pushing him away. After a failed attempt to wrap his arms around the redhead's waist due to the limiting constraints that bound them together, Satoshi settled for cupping the other's face closer to his own. The warmth Daisuke radiated set the nerves beneath his skin aflame, and the softness of his lips made a deep vibration within his throat rumble throughout his mouth.

Daisuke moaned silently at the faint vibrations conveyed through their connected lips and felt his eyes close in pleasure, hiding claret irises beneath powdered eyelids. He sighed blissfully and almost automatically, his lips parted and his tongue mechanically flitted out, as it usually did when he released a sigh. The cross-dressed boy's eyes fluttered open in surprise when his tongue met Satoshi's lower lip; he shyly withdrew the moist muscle one second after and blushed.

However, Satoshi had other plans. His body fully relaxed at the simple touch of Daisuke's tongue against his skin and he pulled the other even closer before lowering his arms. His lips slowly parted open, wholly inviting Daisuke to continue what he had unwittingly started. With a hazy mind, his free hand slithered up to its other and loosened the simple fastener that had encircled his wrist. The prop manacle slid off his hand, hanging off Daisuke's arm and swinging silently against his skin. With a newfound freedom, the boy dressed in white and brown held out his arms and embraced his significant other, never breaking the kiss as he pulled their bodies together.

They molded perfectly against each other, as though they were pieces of a puzzle. Hesitant and timid, Daisuke experimentally flicked his tongue out and traced the soft yet slightly chapped lips pressed against his own. The reaction he received – a throaty groan and the tightening of arms around his waist – made him start in excitement, and he wished to please Satoshi even more. His tongue accepted the opening of the blunette's mouth as an invitation in and entered it slowly, taking in and savoring the taste of its new surroundings.

Satoshi tasted like mint, Daisuke noted with delight. But there was something else in there too, something that balanced the minty flavor so that it wasn't overly icy and bordering the sensation of being burnt. Surprisingly, he tasted sugary and sweet, like chocolate. Funny. Satoshi didn't strike Daisuke as a chocolate kind of person…

But Daisuke craved this unique blend of mint and chocolate, and he enthusiastically explored Satoshi's yielding mouth with an eager fervor. Every inch of wet, pink skin was coated with his candy-like taste; Daisuke couldn't help but run his tongue along every crevice it could reach, tasting the sweet, minty flavor that was his love. Suddenly, he started – this time in surprise – when something to the left of his moving tongue sprang to life.

Satoshi enjoyed the shy but dedicated feel of Daisuke's tongue within him, but after a week of being apart and drenched in angst, he craved to taste the shorter boy once again. Slowly, he coaxed Daisuke's tongue into a sweet dance, gently guiding their tango past their connected lips and into the territory of Daisuke's mouth. The redhead, sensing what Satoshi was trying to do, grinned impishly against the other's lips and wrapped his arms around his neck, careful not to whack him in the back with the swinging handcuff. He playfully pushed on Satoshi's tongue, forcing it back into his own mouth, and instigated the dance once more.

Satoshi chuckled huskily, a smirk curling upon his lips. With a predator's hungry eyes, he vigorously herded Daisuke's tongue back to where it came from, grinding his own tongue against it sensually to set the sweet dance on fire. The fire set a heated battle for dominance aflame, and the invisible sparks flew with passion until the winner was determined.

Satoshi held Daisuke tightly as the little thief's tongue grew compliant and yielding. His senses went haywire when the taste of Daisuke's mouth assaulted his taste buds, lulling him into an addicted trance. Almost predictably, the boy tasted of strawberries – sweet, but not overly so, and refreshing. Underlying the tasty ichigo flavor was the faintest hint of melted marshmallow, blending harmoniously alongside the fruity taste and spawning a busy mix of the two.

Satoshi ran his tongue over the inner wall of Daisuke's right cheek, absorbing the sweet taste within his own body and mentally mapping out every juicy inch of the redhead's mouth. This time around, he was perfectly aware of what he was doing; he made the movements of his tongue long and deliberate, purposefully tasting and savoring the other's presence, love, and essence. This time, their actions were mutual, and neither of the two was simply fueled on by the mere passion of the moment; the fact alone that Daisuke was willingly taking part in this made his heart flutter happily. There would be no heartbreak after this again; there would – perhaps – probably – be more of this.

The thought made Satoshi shiver slightly in ardor.

Satoshi's tongue brushed lightly against the gums of Daisuke's upper lip, causing the smaller boy to freeze and titter quietly to himself. The thief tamer shifted his unsteady feet precariously, transferring the weight he was putting on one foot onto his other. In doing so, he lost his balance, nearly toppling over, and nearly bringing the preoccupied blunette down with him.

Fortunately, Daisuke's back had managed to hit a wall and he stopped abruptly. Satoshi, fearing that he would crush the smaller one between himself and the wall, hastily unwrapped his arms from the warm body they had been embracing and held them out before him. His flat palms pressed against the black plaster, and both of his arms were outstretched to their fullest extent in front of him, one of either side of Daisuke's head, working as rigid support beams and preventing them from crashing into each other.

The sudden, rapid movements they had just made managed to knock whatever little wind they had left from their lungs. Weighing down their options – 1) to continue their steamy bishie kiss or 2) to die as a result of the lack of oxygen – they decided to continue living. To continue living meant to continue steamy bishie kissing. Yay.

The two reluctantly broke apart, their lungs almost sighing in relief as the oxygen rushed back through their systems, and stared each other in the eye. Their chests and shoulders heaved as they greedily sucked in ragged pants of air, heads light and bodies limp, but the passion and love in their eyes remained smoldering and unbridled.

Satoshi smiled fondly and dragged one arm away from its position on the wall. He calmly stroked an askew lock of onyx hair with his thumb and index finger and felt the sudden urge to rip the wig off entirely. He wanted to run his hands through the ruby hair he had grown to love, muss up those bouncy-looking spikes, feel and relish the softness and the redness and the cuteness. But the stupid wig was in his way… He continued to finger the artificial hair absently, the strange, fond, little smile still on his lips.

"Oh my god, did you see that?"

"Yeah!" Insert _Squee of Doom_. "It was so realistic!"

"Oh my god!"

"…Did anyone else but me hear slurping noises?"

The auditorium broke out in excited whispers and Daisuke grew tense under Satoshi. With a deer-caught-in-the-headlights kind of look, his eyes grew wide and slowly, he rotated his head several inches to the right. Blinking over Satoshi's outstretched arm, he stared fearfully at the audience with a hint of surprise gracing his features, as though he had not known that they were there before.

Satoshi felt sympathy for the poor boy. "We can continue the play from here," he whispered not unkindly, blocking the microphone with his fingers. "Pretend this didn't happen in front of them…"** - 3 -**

Daisuke studied Satoshi silently, the great debate reeling through his mind. His eyes took on a determined sparkle, and his panting lips split into a wide grin. "No," he whispered back. "Why hide?" His grasped the hand that had a hold on Satoshi's microphone and held it dearly. "Hiwatari-k –– Eh…" Louder now, he corrected his mistake with a slight fluster and a silent smile. "Satoshi-kun, aishiteru."

The audience gasped in unison at the name and profession of love. The Niwa had just said 'Satoshi,' not 'Takagi.' Gasp. What could it mean?

Satoshi separated from the wall completely and pulled Daisuke into a sweet embrace, pressing their bodies together as he did so. The other's arms instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist, and he cocked his neck forward a little to nuzzle the redhead's cheek with his own. "Daisuke…" He purposely spoke his words lowly, letting his breath roll over said boy's skin in a tempting, alluring way. "I love you too."

The hall exploded with hundreds of "WTF"-s and twice as many "OMFG"-s. Amongst all the confusion, one of the boys' kouhais, a girl from class 2-C named Moon Faith-san – or something like that, they weren't very sure – jumped to her feet, beaming like a psycho…and… -insert sweatdrop here- …foaming at the mouth. Blushing slightly in embarrassment for her friend, Sun Jade-san pulled Faith down, handed her a RikuxSora doujinshi, and hoped for the best. **- 4 -**

Daisuke pulled away from Satoshi's warm, comforting body with a tender smile lighting up his features. Slowly, he rocked forward, ready to instigate another kiss, when the blunette pressed a long, graceful finger against his lips.

"Daisuke…" Satoshi said softly. "Everyone's looking. Are you sure you want to…?"

This time, it was Daisuke's turn to interrupt. He gently ran the tip of his tongue over Satoshi's finger, grinning rather impishly when the commander pulled his hand back in shock. "I don't care if they know – if they know that I love you." He pulled Satoshi closer to him, pressing their faces closer together until their lips were barely an inch apart. "Because I do, and they can't change that." And with that, he closed the meager distance between their lips and another steamy kiss ensued. They were lost in their own world, a world of love and passion, and it didn't seem like they wanted to leave just yet.

Ika, more than a little bit miffed about the wreckage of her play, scowled crossly to herself from somewhere offstage as the ever-present gaggle of shounen-ai worshippers took control. One tugged the curtain close, making its hem drag along the floor, while another whipped a camcorder out of…nowhere…and began recording the show.

Two girls whipped out a long sheet of butcher paper and ran onto the little bit of stage in front of the closed curtains. Unfurling it, they presented it proudly in front of the utterly confused audience and grinned widely.

Scribed in large, fancy, articulate cursive was the simple word that meant so much to Satoshi: **_Fin_.**

They had finally gotten their happy ending.

------

**1.** Y'know those things little poles around display cases? They have holes on the sides, and then you hook one of those thick velvet ropes to the holes and they stop you from getting closer to the art. That's a rope stand. I dunno what they're called… So I'll call them a rope stand.

**2.** Hey, it's high school. No one cares if you swear anymore. XD

**3.** How they managed to make out without moving those microphones, I'll never know. Maybe they _did_ move them…but then they magically went back in front of their mouths after they finished… Whatever – live with it.

**4. **This is for _**Faith Moon n Jade Sun**_, who said in a review for chapter 2 that she wanted to be in the audience during Dai's confession of love. There you go, Faith! You get to be a rabid yaoi fangirl. xD

**Killah:** I can't write a lime to save my life… I suck… /cries and tries to drown self/ But still… SATOXDAI-NESS TO THE MAX! AHHHHHH! …/cough/ Okay. Now that that's out of my system, I'll continue on… xD Ohmygawd. /dies/ I've finally finished this. Ahhhhh… /sighs out of relief and sadness/ This is by far the longest story I have ever written, and it's only 4 chapters! Crazy, huh? I could have split each chapter in half and gotten 8 chapters (and more reviews /drools/), but I liked the fact that I was able to restrain myself and give all my wonderful readers long chapters. /drools at the tiny scrollbar of an 8000-word chapter/ Bwuhahaha… And **OMFG**. This chapter is **-more than-** 10,000 words/gags on the sweet taste of self-satisfaction and dies/

Stupid, rushed, confusing ending, I know. There was just too much drama and such a huge flood of feelings that I got lost in it all and couldn't really understand the reason why Satoshi didn't want to believe Daisuke. XD Hey, it happens, okay? xD …But really. When someone ends up **crying**, you've _got_ to let them **have their way**. It's like an unwritten law. Pity their sobs and give 'em what they want; if you don't, then you're a cold, selfish bastard. And for those who don't remember the _**Fin**_ part mentioned before, refer to the **first chapter** right before Sato and Dai talk on the roof – the happy ending and fairytale part. Yay for repetition and…**story connecting-ness**…

Fuck the horizontal scrollbar and yay for insensitive chapter titling. x)

I want to thank all my readers for taking the time to read my first ever DNAngel fic. /glomps you all/ I feel so loved. /sighs dreamily/ Special thanks to anyone who reviewed; I loved all your comments of encouragement and proclamations of love for my fic. xDDD

I'm contemplating the pairing for my next fic. Should it be **A) **DarkxDai, or **B) **SatoxDai? The summary for my DarkxDai fic is in my profile, but if you're too lazy to go look for it, it's about jail and the perverted wonders of it. xD I've already come to the conclusion that it won't be too long, but not too short, either. I just need to know whether you want to read this first, or the SatoxDai story. I don't know what I have in store next for poor Satoshi and Daisuke, but it will be angsty. xD Bwuhahaha… Must make all my favorite characters and their respective boyfriends-to-be suffer… /evil laughter/ Both stories will be rated T with _very_ possible M-ratings to come. Very, _very_ possible… Heheheheh…

Once again, thanks for reading, and I hope you **REVIEW**.

Ja. _–Killah_


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